Repercussions
by Solo Lady
Summary: Follows "Aftershock." After the events surrounding Operation Rose, Alex and Gene find their way back to trusting each other again. But there are unforeseen changes in store for Fenchurch East, and they find they need to depend on each other even more.
1. Chapter 1

Title: "Repercussions"  
Fandom: Ashes to Ashes  
Genre: Drama/Angst  
Pairing: Gene & Alex, some Chris & Shaz  
Spoilers: Most of Series 2, especially Episode 8  
Rating: T  
Feedback: Please.  
Disclaimer: I own nothing associated with Ashes to Ashes. Rights belong to Kudos, BBC, etc.

Summary: Follows "Aftershock." After the events surrounding Operation Rose, Alex and Gene have found their way back to trusting each other again. But there are more unforeseen changes in store for Fenchurch East, and Gene and Alex find they need to depend on each other more than ever.

Author's note: This story directly follows "Aftershock" and continues some of the themes started in that story. In "Aftershock," Alex comes out of her coma in 1982 and clears Gene of any wrongdoing in her shooting. During the course of that, she makes a deal with the Chief Superintendent to make certain that Gene stays at Fenchurch East and his team stays together. And that's about all you really need to know in case you've not read "Aftershock."

The inspiration for this first chapter came to me while mulling over the last episode of series two. Like every other fan, I wondered, "What's going to happen?!" Then I hit upon this idea. Shortly afterward, I was talking with my best friend, Amlyn, who said about series three, "You know what the writers should do?" She then went on to say exactly what I'd been thinking. (We do that a lot.) So I just had to write this.

**Chapter 1**

The news hit Gene like a double-decker bus. He should've been prepared, but he wasn't. He barely registered Jeffers next comments.

"I'm sorry, Gene, but I was overruled. The higher-ups see this as an opportunity to show the public that we handle problems sternly."

"And they leave it to you to tell me," Gene said. "Cowards."

"I wish there was something more that could be done," the Chief continued. "It's effective immediately." Standing up, thereby calling an end to the meeting, he said, "I leave it to you to pass along the news to your team."

Gene got to his feet but said nothing as he turned to leave Jeffers's office. He was stopped by one more statement from his superior.

"I did try, Gene."

Looking over his shoulder, Gene replied, "I know. And at least there's one good thing to come from this."

**********

Maybe it was time for a change.

Alex stood before the mirror, turning this way and that, examining her reflection. It was definitely time for a haircut. Perhaps she should go for something really different. Maybe a new wardrobe, too.

This Friday evening she wore a long green sweater, black leggings, and boots. Just right for a night at Luigi's with the members of CID. Even though she'd not returned to her duties at Fenchurch East, Alex met with the team most evenings to keep up with what was going on.

Yes, she certainly needed some new clothes. She'd dropped several pounds since—

Her musings came to a halt. It was still difficult to think about the reason for her weight loss.

The shooting.

The memory of that event still made Alex a little shaky. Everyone considered her recovery to be a miracle – and to her way of thinking, it was. But the knowledge of it and how it nearly ended her life – that was enough to throw her a little. And what the shooting had almost cost Gene…

Alex went to the kitchen for a glass of water. It was more tempting to get a glass of vodka, but she resisted. She drained the glass and poured another, taking it with her as she went back to the living room to lie down on the sofa.

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. As if being shot in 2008 and landing in 1981 wasn't bad enough, Alex then had to be shot in 1982 and went back to 2008, only to bounce again to '82! She started laughing. It was all so bloody ridiculous! Or it would be if it didn't feel so real.

The Met had encouraged her to seek counseling and Alex – who herself had been a counselor in her future life – decided to take advantage of it. She'd seen Dr. Randolph Leonard. He was very good at his job, but Alex had realized quickly that what she most needed to relate, she couldn't. How she'd ended up in this time. Why she'd been so desperate to believe Martin Summers. Her despair over the fallout with Gene -- and the depth of her feelings for him.

After a few visits, Alex gave up on the sessions. Instead she concentrated on finding her own coping strategies.

Surprisingly, the one that seemed to be working best was Gene himself. True, they had a tendency to talk around their problems rather than address them directly. But at least they were talking. They'd worked out things between them after the shooting, finding their way back to that connection they had before. In an odd way, the incident had brought them closer together. Much closer. Maybe because no one else could possibly comprehend what they'd gone through – and were still going through.

In any case, their time together these past few weeks was good for them both. And there was a new, more intimate dimension to their relationship. Alex couldn't help smiling. They were almost like kids, unsure of themselves. Alex knew her desire for Gene was strong. When he kissed her, the passion she felt surprised her with its intensity. They always stopped, however, as if afraid of going too far. Of course that was mostly due to Alex's injuries. But maybe they were worried about taking that next step. Because if they did, everything about their relationship would be different. Was either of them ready for that great a change?

*********

CID was empty when Gene got there. Late Friday afternoon and everyone had left. They'd be expecting him at Luigi's, but he wasn't in the mood. Not now. But Alex would be there. They'd not seen each other for two days -- and he really needed to see her.

He paused just inside the room and looked around. His kingdom. That's how he'd described Manchester CID to Sam. And, truth be told, Gene still thought of his patch as his kingdom, no matter that the city had change. He took pride in how things ran under his watch. His team was one of the best. And, thanks to Alex, the team was still together, and he was grateful to her for that.

Alex. At one time Gene had thought that their relationship was over. They had been friends, confidants, partners, drinking buddies. Gene depended on Alex more than anyone since Sam Tyler. Their trust seemed to be complete. But each had allowed outsiders to drive a wedge between them. And just at the moment they should have been finding their way back each other, the unimaginable had happened. Alex was held at gunpoint by Jenette Rivens. Gene's threat to Jenette resulted in gunshots – with Alex caught in the middle.

Gene's bullet had hit Alex. She could have died but pulled through. And after fights and confessions and recriminations, their friendship survived. In some ways they were closer than before. Yet Gene knew that the shooting would always be a part of their relationship, and he felt a gnawing guilt every time he saw Alex wince in pain or turn pale with exhaustion. Gene knew he had her forgiveness, but there would always be a part of himself that couldn't forgive the accidental shooting or forget watching her fall to the ground.

He never told her that he had nightmares of that day and how close he'd come to losing her. But Gene was aware of Alex's nightmares. Sometimes he would spend a Saturday evening with her, watching an old movie. Often she would fall asleep and the dreams would come. Some dreams would be about the shooting. Sometimes Gene was the victim. More often, however, Alex's dreams would be about something entirely different: Molly.

Molly. Alex's daughter. From her "life in the future." When Alex mentioned Molly, he worried that Alex continued to believe that delusion. Gene thought that if Molly existed, she had to be somewhere in the present. He also had trouble with Alex's claims of being Alex Price, the little girl he'd carried away from the scene of her parents' fiery death. There were times when he caught a glimpse of that child in Alex's eyes and expressions. Still, he couldn't accept her explanation of where she was from. But to give her peace of mind, Gene encouraged her to talk about her life and how she came to be with him in 1982.

The last few weeks had been a trial for them, but Gene liked to think that, eventually, they would come out stronger – especially in light of the turn their relationship had taken. There were no words of love spoken between them. But there was an understanding that what they felt was more than friendship. Just how much more, he didn't like to contemplate. There were times when Alex was in his arms and Gene wanted her so much it was nearly impossible to stop from going further. But he had always stopped – so far. Partly because he was worried about hurting Alex while she was recovering. But mostly because he just wasn't sure what would happen to them afterward. That next step – actually having sex – that would change everything.

And now the news from Jeffers. How would this latest turn of events affect their new-found relationship? Would it survive?

Checking his watch, Gene wondered if he might catch Alex before she headed downstairs to the restaurant. This was something they couldn't discuss in front of the team.

**********

Alex had just finished putting on her makeup when there was a knock at her door. Without even calling out or checking, she knew it was Gene. Just like him to show up early.

As she opened the door, Alex took one look and knew something was wrong. It was in Gene's eyes and body language. Everything about him was guarded and wary. She immediately jumped to worst-case scenarios. "What's wrong?" she demanded.

Gene scowled at her. "Wrong? What makes you think something's wrong?" He strode past her and into the living room. Alex closed the door and followed him.

He was pacing the room, pulling out cigarettes and a lighter, then stuffing them back into his pockets. "You have anything to drink?" Before she could answer, Gene waved that request aside. "Never mind."

Shaking her head, Alex said, "Oh, yes, Alex. What could possibly make you think anything is wrong?"

Gene stopped and stared at her. "What?"

Alex sighed and sat down on the sofa. "What is it? Something is bothering you. And from the way you brushed me off, I'm guessing no one is hurt."

He stood across from her, hands in pockets. "No, no one's hurt. And yeah, something's bothering me." Gene took out the cigarettes and lighter again but still didn't light up. "Chief Jeffers called me into his office. Remember he told me that my going back to CID was contingent on the review board?"

"Yes, but he was going to speak up for you."

"He did."

Something in his voice worried Alex. "And?" she asked.

"I've been demoted."

Alex sat back, staring in stunned silence at Gene. She couldn't breathe for a moment. "No," she finally whispered.

Gene met her gaze steadily. Once he'd made the statement, he felt calm and in control and could think reasonably about it. He moved over to the sofa to sit beside her.

"They can't do that!" Alex went on. "They can't!"

"They can," Gene contradicted. "And they have."

"But Jeffers—we had a deal with him!"

"He told me he did what he could, and I believe him."

Alex shook her head. "It's not right!" she insisted. "Not after all you've done!"

"_Because_ of what I've done," Gene said. "I shot you, Alex."

It was a subject they avoided, but this was a time they had to talk about it.

"It was an accident," she said softly.

"That doesn't matter. And it's not all. It's everything. Everything over the past few months." Gene finally lit a cigarette. Although Alex didn't like his smoking in the flat, she made no move to stop him. Instead, she found an ashtray for him. "According to the review board, every decision I've made over the past months has been wrong. I should have reported my suspicions about Mac to someone higher up—"

"To whom?!" Alex demanded. "How were you supposed to know who to trust?!"

"That's what I said when Jeffers told me the board's decision," Gene explained. "What Jeffers himself told them. They dismissed that argument. Said I should've tried. And because I went off on my own, people ended up dead. Jarvis, Mac, Summers, that girl Debbie, the one Jarvis killed. And very nearly you." He took a long drag on the cigarette.

"That's unfair," Alex told him. "You are _not_ responsible for—"

"Aren't I?" interrupted Gene. "They have a point, Alex. If I'd moved faster—"

"Stop it! I won't let you do this to yourself!" She put her hand on his arm. "Gene, you did everything you could."

"_And_—" Gene went on, ignoring her objections, "I used poor judgment in drawing you into my investigation and ended up endangering your life. And it doesn't matter what you say, Alex. They have a point!" He ground out his cigarette and got up to walk over to the window. Leaning against the wall, he gazed outside.

"But to demote you to DI…" Alex's voice trailed off.

"I'm lucky it wasn't sergeant. I don't know how many of Mac's or Carnegie's friends were on the board or even higher up. They went easy on me when you look at it."

They were silent for a moment. Then Alex spoke up again. "What happens now? Will you stay at Fenchurch East? Or are they planning to move you?"

Gene didn't turn around. "I'll be staying."

"If that's the case—" Alex got up and went to stand next to him. "If that's the case, what about me? Will they leave me there, too? Are they keeping the team together?"

For the first time since walking into the flat, Gene smiled. "The team stays together. And you'll still be there."

"But they'll be bringing in a new DCI," observed Alex.

"Yes."

"Well, he probably won't want both of us there. Two DIs. Especially with our history."

"The new DCI is going to be fine with both of us there," Gene told her.

Puzzled, Alex asked, "You know him?"

"I know the new DCI. One of the finest officers I've ever worked with," he replied. "But such sexist language! From _you_, of all people! What makes you think the new DCI is a man?"

"Well, because--" Alex stopped short. Her jaw dropped. "No, it can't be," she said.

Gene smiled again. "It's the only bit of good news Jeffers gave me this afternoon." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a warrant card. Handing it to her, he said, "Congratulations, DCI Drake."

Alex couldn't move for a moment. Then she finally, reluctantly reached out to take the new warrant card. She opened it slowly, then closed it quickly. Holding it out to Gene, she said, "I don't want it. I'm not qualified."

"You're qualified."

"I'm not prepared."

"You're prepared."

She shook her head. It was impossible that this should happen. The last thing Alex would ever want was to usurp Gene's position at CID. How could the review board do that to him? Then the answer came to her. "They're giving me this because you shot me. They want to humiliate you by making me your superior."

Gene laughed a little. "Can you imagine?" he said. "They thought that would be the worst thing they could do to me. To put you in charge. A woman. And not just any woman. The woman I shot. They don't understand that I'm still ahead of the game. The team is still together. My superior is an officer I respect. And trust." He paused. "I don't like the demotion, but all in all, it's not too bad."

Still, it was too much to fathom, that she could be DCI. "Gene," she said, "I can't do this."

"If I thought you couldn't do it, I wouldn't've put you in for the promotion," he assured her.

It was one shock after another. "You?" she asked. "Put me in for it?"

"Weeks ago." Gene put his arm around her and led her back to the sofa. They sat down. "When I started looking into Superintendent Charles Mackintosh and his dirty dealings, I wanted a way to get you some distance from me. If it had all gone tits up, you might still have a career, even if I didn't. I knew you could do it, no matter where they might've sent you. If you could get Ray Carling's respect, you could handle anyone.

"As it turned out, they were afraid to get rid of me entirely. Wouldn't look good for the officer who exposed corruption to be kicked too far down. But the shooting." Gene paused. "That gave them a chance for punishment and, as you said, humiliation. But they don't really know me, Bolly. And they don't know _us._"

Alex leaned back. This reminded her of when Gene told her that he had joined the Masons to get the goods on Mac. Gene had had everything thought out. It was like that now. He had figured out everything.

Still…

"I just don't know if I can do this," she said.

"You're joking, right?" Gene laughed. "Don't you remember your first day at Fenchurch East?"

Sitting up, Alex replied, "Yes. And…?"

"What happened?"

"You carried me in."

"And then?"

Alex considered what went on that day. "I found out that I was expected."

"Before that," Gene said. "I stood you up in the middle of CID. You looked around. Seemed scared. But then you marched straight into my office and sat yourself down behind the desk. Like you owned the place. Well, now you do. You've never let up for a minute since that first day. You're tough. You demand respect and you get it. Don't tell me you never thought about being DCI."

"Not here," she insisted. "Not like this. And certainly not at your expense."

"Don't worry about me."

Alex placed a hand on his arm. "Have you told everyone?" she asked.

Gene shook his head and put his hand over hers. "Not yet. I came here from the station."

"When will you tell them?"

"First thing Monday morning. They deserve to know. At least it won't be some stranger coming in to take over. They know you. They respect you. You'll be their DCI when you return. Speaking of that, what did the doctor say about you coming back to work?"

"After the new year."

"Three weeks. Maybe that'll give everyone long enough to get used to us switching places."

Alex looked into silver-blue eyes. "Everything's going to be different now," she said.

"Yeah." Gene drew her into his arms, and she settled in, loving the comfort of his embrace. "It'll be a little rough at first, Bolly, but they'll fall into line. And I'll be your loyal lieutenant."

"But—" she started, then stopped.

"But what?"

"But you won't call me 'Bolly' again," Alex said, feeling very sad.

"Of course, I will," Gene returned. "Just not in front of them."

Alex giggled. "Promise?"

"Promise."

**TBC**


	2. Everything Was Changing

**Chapter 2  
**

Demotion and promotion.

Alex was still reeling from that news, even as Gene assured her that all would be fine. As her DI, he would back her up in her new position as DCI. Yet Alex couldn't help wondering how realistic that was. She and Gene were stubborn, willful people, set in their ways and usually loathe to give an inch.

They considered staying at her flat for dinner but finally decided to go downstairs to Luigi's. The CID team members were in attendance and seemed to be behaving themselves. At least Luigi didn't look as harried as usual when the detectives were there. Gene and Alex said hello to everyone and sat at their usual table. Alex didn't feel particularly hungry but ordered a simple dish of capellini with marinara sauce. Gene asked for spag bol and a bottle of a good wine instead of the house red.

Alex drank more wine that she should have, but she couldn't match Gene. Once the first bottle was drained, he ordered another. They didn't talk much, and Alex wondered if he was really taking the demotion as well as he'd claimed. As usual, he was holding his drinks well, but he became more and more quiet. At the end of their meal, as if by some unspoken agreement, they simply said good night and went their separate ways.

Everything was changing, even if they acted as if all was normal. Alex climbed the stairs to her flat, thinking of the term "snafu": situation normal – all fucked up.

**********

Gene walked most of the way home, then veered off to a nearby pub. It was a place he went to when he just wanted to brood. No one else he knew would be there. Finding a vacant table, he settled in for the rest of the evening with a pint of bitter.

So now he was a Detective Inspector. He'd put on a good front for Alex, but the demotion galled him. Jeffers was supposed to convince the review board that Gene and Alex had been working under his supervision. But the higher-ups hadn't bought the story – and Gene was being singled out for punishment.

At age 35, Gene Hunt had been promoted to Detective Chief Inspector in Manchester. The youngest man to be DCI in the history of the city's police force. It was a distinction he was proud of, and he guarded his rank jealously. Sam Tyler learned that on his first day at Manchester CID – and Gene made sure he never forgot it.

Now it was as if 12 years of hard work meant nothing.

Gene couldn't begrudge Alex a chance at proving herself. But even as he said he'd be her loyal lieutenant, he had doubted himself. When it came right down to it, could he swallow his pride and take orders from her?

The past month had been a seesaw of emotions. He and Alex had run the gamut from complete trust to hostility and back. Now it was all changing, and Gene could not see how they were to return to the closeness they'd shared lately. Not with her as his new DCI.

Draining his glass, Gene got carefully to his feet. He really shouldn't mix good wine with bitter. But he managed to get home safely. Pausing long enough to pull off boots, jacket, and tie, he collapsed on the sofa, wishing he could stay unconscious until Monday.

**********

Alex rolled onto her side, wincing as a slight pain caught her off guard. The clock showed 2:17 a.m. She wasn't sure if she'd slept any or not. But now she was wide awake. Giving up, she climbed out of bed and went into the kitchen to make some cocoa. Alex didn't like warm milk, but if it had chocolate in it…

The calendar drew Alex's attention as she waited for the milk to warm. December 11, 1982. Two weeks until Christmas. Her second in the past. Although she was certain that only a few days had passed in 2008, where she lay in a coma, Alex felt incredible longing for her child, especially during holidays and birthdays. In an odd way, she had hoped that this Christmas might be a bit easier. Last year she'd been so depressed, she locked herself in the flat and cried most of the day.

This year Alex had hoped to spend the day with Gene. Neither of them had family here, and she thought they might have dinner and watch some movies. And maybe she wouldn't miss Molly quite so much.

Now things were different, and Alex could feel the distance growing between them. She didn't want to be DCI! She wanted Gene to be _her_ DCI! Her constant. What were they to do now?

Taking the hot chocolate into the living room, Alex settled on the sofa. Out of habit, she turned on the TV.

"Mum?"

Alex jumped, spilling some of the cocoa on her pajamas. Molly was on the television, her face turned away, her attention drawn to someone Alex couldn't see. Yet she knew that Molly was gazing at her mother in 2008. Alex put the cup down and leaned forward. From what she could see, Molly was sitting on the hospital bed. The comatose Alex's face was not visible.

It was strange to see Molly this way, as if the girl was an actress in a series. But odder still was the glimpse of a person behind Molly. Just the back of someone in a black coat who was also seemed to be looking at the woman in the bed. Molly turned around and looked up at the person behind her. Tears were in the young girl's eyes and Alex felt her throat tighten with emotion.

"Molly," Alex whispered, swallowing hard. It was the first time in weeks that she'd seen her daughter in anything other than nightmares. She crossed the room to kneel in front of the television. Reaching out, she touched the screen, her fingertips tracing the outline of the beloved face.

"She's been unconscious for so long," Molly said. "I know. It's just a week, but the doctor said the longer she's in coma…" The girl turned back to her mother.

Alex blinked back tears, not wanting to miss a second of the chance to see her child. Then she sat back in shock as the person standing behind Molly laid a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder. It was a hand she knew well. The picture disappeared from the screen, replaced by static.

It was just like the moment when Alex was shot. When she thought she'd awakened in 2008, only to realize she was having an out-of-body experience. At that time, she'd seen herself, still in coma. Molly, Evan, and the doctor were at her side. And one other familiar person was there. A tall man in a black coat.

Gene.

Alex knew it was him. And now, once again, Gene was there at her bedside in 2008. And Molly knew him.

"How, Gene?" Alex asked. "How can you be there? How did you get there?"

**********

_It was cold in the courtyard. The concrete pulled the heat from Gene's body as he knelt by the man he'd just killed. Gene was about to go through the man's pockets for ID when he heard the shot. Grabbing his gun and turning around, he saw Jenette holding a gun on Alex. Another shot, then another. Alex was falling. She was on the ground, bleeding, staring at him. Gene wanted to hold her, but he couldn't move. He watched, feeling helpless as the light faded from Alex's beautiful eyes. _

_Then someone ran toward Alex. A young girl with long brown hair came from nowhere. Gene couldn't see her face, but somehow he knew who she was. The child ran to Alex's side. "Mum!" she cried out. "Mum!"_

Gene woke with his heart racing. He sat up quickly, immediately regretting that decision. His head felt ready to split open. The sun was shining through open blinds and the light added to his pain. Slowly, he got to his feet and made his way to the bathroom.

A long, hot shower helped the hangover, but Gene was having trouble shaking off the troubling feeling left by the dream. Why would he be dreaming about Molly? Maybe his guilt over the shooting coupled with Alex's telling him about her daughter?

Alex had also told him of her vision of returning to the future and seeing Molly. She also said that Gene himself was there in 2008 and that Molly knew him. That could be the only explanation.

Getting out of the shower, Gene toweled dry and got dressed. Alex's stories were now affecting his dreams as well as his waking hours. It wasn't the first time she'd drawn him in. There were moments when he could almost see a glimpse of the child Alex Price in adult Alex Drake's face; but Gene knew that was just his mind playing tricks on him.

Wasn't it?

**TBC…**


	3. Watch Your Back

**Author's note: My apologies for having taken so long to get this chapter posted. It was difficult to settle on exactly where I wanted it to go. Many thanks to those who have reviewed and created alerts for me and/or my stories. I'm very flattered. Thanks once again to Amlyn for being my beta.**

Chapter 3

Alex was up early on Saturday morning. Between Gene's news and seeing Molly on the television, sleep was nearly impossible. She'd fallen into a fitful doze on the sofa, dreams of the two most important people in her life alternately soothing and distressing her.

By sunrise, Alex had a plan.

The morning was colder than she'd expected. The drizzly rain didn't help. Alex was wishing she'd worn heavier socks and coat, instead of jeans, trainers, and a thick sweater. She paced the sidewalk, partly to stay warm, partly to pass the time until it was a reasonable hour to knock on the Jeffers's front door.

About 8 o'clock the front drapes were opened. Alex hesitated. This was crazy, barging in on her Chief – at his home – on a Saturday morning. But she had to talk with him. Maybe there was still a chance to get Gene back on the job as DCI.

Alex climbed the steps and knocked on the door. A moment later the door was opened by a blonde woman in her 50s. She was slender and dressed very much like Alex. And she had soft blue eyes that reminded Alex of Molly's. All in all, Muriel Jeffers looked like a perfect match for her husband.

"Yes?" the woman asked.

"Mrs. Jeffers?" Alex asked. The woman nodded. Alex went on. "I'm Alex Drake. I'm so sorry to bother you so early. And on a Saturday. But I really need to speak with Chief Jeffers."

As Alex spoke, Mrs. Jeffers began to smile. "Of course," the older woman answered. "My husband has talked of you. Do come in." Alex stepped into the warm house. "You look half-frozen. Come through to the kitchen. It's the warmest room in the house."

Alex followed the woman into the kitchen. "Please sit down," Mrs. Jeffers directed, indicating a small table. Taking off her sweater and sitting down, Alex looked out a large window and saw a garden area. Even on this dull gray day, it was nice to see trees and greenery instead of a city street. All in all, the room and view reminded Alex of her home in 2008, and she felt a sharp pang of homesickness.

"How long were you out there?"

Coming out of her reverie, Alex turned to her hostess. "Oh, 15, maybe 20 minutes. It's very kind of you to ask me in," she added.

"I couldn't leave you in the foyer. Tea or coffee?"

"Tea, please."

Muriel placed a cup, teapot, sugar, and cream on the table. "I'll let my husband know you're here," she said.

Pouring a cup of tea, Alex was beginning to feel guilty. She should have waited until Monday and seen Jeffers in his office. But if there was a chance that all this could be corrected, the sooner, the better.

A moment later Clive Jeffers came in. To Alex's surprise, he was dressed in his uniform. "Alex," he greeted. "Very good to see you. You're looking well. Much better than the last time we met." He stopped for a cup of coffee before joining her at the table.

"Thank you, Chief. And thank you for agreeing to see me. I'm very sorry to intrude on your weekend."

"Quite all right. I can guess why you're here. You must be very concerned about the review board's decision."

"I am," Alex confessed. "What happened? Gene said you supported him, but what about the idea that we were working for you to uncover Mac's activities?"

Jeffers sighed. "I'm afraid that wasn't as successful as we'd hoped. Some were willing to believe it. Others were not. It came across as what it was: an attempt by a supervisor to cover for his subordinate. And even those who wanted to believe that story, well, they were also distrustful of Gene and felt that he must have acted on his own. People ended up dead, Alex. There are those who feel that someone should be held accountable."

"Gene is not responsible for the actions of Mac and Jarvis!" Alex snapped, immediately regretting her show of temper. However, Jeffers didn't seem to mind.

"I agree," he said. "Gene did the right thing. But Mac and Carnegie have friends. And so Gene is being punished with the demotion." A smile came to the Chief's face. "But there is some good coming from this."

Sighing, Alex said, "Please don't say my promotion. I don't want it. Never did. Gene is my DCI. I'm his DI. It's where we belong."

"That's where you're wrong, Alex. This is the best thing that could happen under the circumstances. You see, the board considered splitting up the team. Carroll and I argued that you should be kept together."

"Carroll?!" Alex was shocked that the superintendent was siding with Jeffers.

"Yes. He decided that Gene was being railroaded and should be fully reinstated. Of course, Walker recommended out and out dismissal. But since he was Carnegie's superior, the board chose to ignore that suggestion. In the end, it came down to how much they wanted to punish Gene. And keeping the team together was part of that."

"Of course it was," Alex snorted. "Demoting him and promoting me? That was just to humiliate him."

The Chief nodded. "It could have been much worse. Don't you see, Alex? The board has completely underestimated all of you. They believe that the team will have less respect for him. And they want someone to keep an eye on him and hold his feet to the fire. What better person than the woman he tried to get rid of?"

"Good lord! Didn't they get it through the thick skulls that the shooting was an accident?!"

"Yes. I'm talking about the fact that Gene put you in for a promotion."

Now Alex was confused. "The fact that he had faith in my abilities –"

"No. They saw it as his wanting to be rid of you. That you two had had a falling out. The later argument and threats fit in with that way of thinking."

She sat back. For a group of people prepared to think the worst of Gene, that would make sense. They would assume that his motives were as underhanded and twisted as their own. Alex knew that not everyone on the board would feel that way, but those who did carried some weight.

Alex smiled. "They don't know us," she said.

Jeffers returned the smile. "No, they don't." But the smile quickly vanished. "However there's still a big problem for you and Gene. Did he tell you that a new superintendent's been chosen for Fenchurch East?"

"No."

"Dennis Wilkins. He and Gene were at Hendon together. They didn't get along then. They don't get along now. Wilkins is being put there to keep an eye on both of you, just in case it turns out that you can't – or won't – handle the Gene."

The news disturbed Alex, not necessarily because of who their new superintendent would be. No, it was the fact that Gene himself had not told her about Wilkins. Once again Alex felt that she and Gene were drifting further apart – and she was unsure how to stop it.

"Well," she said, "at least you'll be there to keep an eye on Wilkins."

"I'm afraid not," Chief Jeffers contradicted. "I've been transferred across town, effective immediately. I'll be clearing out my office today."

The last step in the board's plan. Jeffers had shown support for Gene. Now that support would be gone.

"I suppose that's that," Alex sighed.

"Yes. I know you'd prefer things the way they were, but Gene has been demoted and that won't change."

"It's just – " Alex paused. "I don't know if I'm ready for this. I don't know if the team is."

"Don't be ridiculous! It's clear that you already have their respect. That's half the battle. And don't be so distressed," the Chief said. "Wilkins really has no idea what he's getting into. I think you and Gene together will be more than a match for him. Just watch your back."

Muriel Jeffers opened the door. "Is it all right for me to come in?"

"Of course," her husband replied.

Standing, Alex reached for her sweater. "Thank you for talking with me. And thank you for your hospitality."

"You're not leaving already?" Muriel asked. "I was about to make some breakfast. Have you eaten?"

"Yes."

"And what did you have?"

"A bowl of corn flakes."

"Corn flakes," Muriel huffed. "Not a proper breakfast. Sit down. You'll have breakfast with us. You're thin as a rail. It must be difficult, trying to take care of yourself while recovering from a gunshot wound. Do you like your eggs scrambled?"

Alex looked at Chief Jeffers, who simply smiled at her. She sat down and poured another cup of tea. "I love scrambled eggs," she said.

**********

The sun had come out while Alex was with the Chief and Mrs. Jeffers. However, the sun didn't seem to provide any real warmth. Her meeting with Clive Jeffers did nothing to relieve Alex's worries. If anything, she was more concerned than before. The higher-ups seemed determined to beat Gene down – and they were trying to use Alex to accomplish it. While she would never allow that to happen, her heart was breaking for Gene. His pride was taking one hit after another and he was pulling away from her.

On her way home Alex stopped for a few groceries. When she got to her flat, she put on some warmer clothes and went back out.

Once again she was waiting for someone. At least this time she was inside. She'd arrived at Gene's place only to find that he wasn't at home. Now Alex sat on the stairs outside Gene's flat, drumming her fingers and wishing she'd brought something to read. A couple of times she had to move aside for other residents of the building. Finally, a little after one o'clock, Gene came trudging up the stairs. He had a grocery bag in one arm and carried dry cleaning on the other hand. Dressed in traditional weekend garb of jeans, trainers, sweater, and leather jacket, he looked great. Sometimes he took Alex's breath away.

Gene stopped at the foot of the stairs when he saw her sitting there. She was so goddamn beautiful. Sometimes he couldn't think when he looked at her.

Alex jumped to her feet and walked down the steps. "Let me help," she said, taking the clothes. They stood for another moment, just looking at each other. "So," she continued, smiling a bit, "this is what the Gene Genie does on a Saturday."

He shrugged. "Just like a million other people in this town, Bolly."

They went up the stairs and into Gene's flat. He deposited the groceries in the kitchen, then took the clothes from Alex. "What are you doing here?" he called as he took them into the bedroom.

"I saw Jeffers this morning."

Gene shook his head. He should have known that Alex would try to find a way around this situation. Returning to the living room, he asked, "And what did he say?"

"A lot that you didn't." She appeared miffed.

"Such as…?"

"Wilkins."

Now it was Gene's turn to be annoyed. He couldn't help it. He'd hated Dennis Wilkins for over 20 years, and the feeling was completely mutual. "Wilkins," he muttered. Going into the kitchen, he began putting away groceries. Alex followed him.

"Jeffers told me that Wilkins is supposed to keep an eye on us," she said. "Keep us in line." Gene scowled at that thought. "Yes," Alex said. "That was my reaction, too. But why didn't you tell me last night?"

Why hadn't he? Gene avoided Alex's gaze and thought about his reasons. And it came down to one thing. "I'd already given you a lot to worry about," he said.

"Were you going to tell me?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"I don't know!" Gene snapped.

Alex put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "Well, he's going to be there on Monday," she returned.

"And I'll deal with him until you get back!"

They fell silent and for another moment continued to glower at each other. Then, as if by some unspoken mutual agreement, they both looked away. _Why did we always do this?_ Gene wondered. _Will we forever be one minute at each other's throats and the next minute—_

"Jeffers said he's been transferred," Alex said.

Gene shook off the image that had been edging into his imagination – an image of Alex in his arms, in his bed. "Yeah," he replied. "Across town."

He should offer her something to drink. Maybe he could take her out to lunch. Maybe they could pretend for a while that none of this shit at work mattered.

Alex cleared her throat. "I'd like to be there when you tell the team."

And they were back in the middle of it.

"I think that's a good idea," Gene said.

The awkward silence returned. Once again Alex spoke first. "So much going on the next few weeks. The wedding next Saturday. It should be lovely."

Not really caring about the wedding being "lovely," Gene said, "It's at 7:00. I'll pick you up about 6:00."

"All right." She looked around the kitchen. "I suppose I should be going."

Gene didn't want her to go. He wanted to hold her and say that everything would be fine. That they would beat Wilkins at any game he tried.

Alex took a step back and shrugged. "I'll see you Monday morning, then."

"Yeah," Gene answered.

He followed her to the door. Alex took a step outside, then turned around. They had to talk about this. She walked back inside and shut the door. "No," she said. "I didn't tell you everything Jeffers said."

Gene was caught off guard. "What do you mean?"

"He said that Wilkins is going to be looking for anything he can use against you. Against us."

"I know that," Gene said. "He always was a conniving little weasel. A weak man who looks for any weakness in others. Only way he can feel good about himself." Gene motioned to a chair. "Sit down. Do you want something to drink?"

For the first time since entering Gene's place, Alex felt comfortable. "What do you have?"

"Coffee. Tea. Scotch."

The choice was easy. "Scotch."

Gene went into the kitchen and came back a moment later with two glasses of scotch. He handed one to Alex and then settled on the sofa. "So, it sounds like the Chief told you more than he told me."

Alex shrugged. "Mostly he told me that the board and especially Wilkins underestimate us. That together we're more than a match for any of them. They think you put me in for promotion because you wanted rid of me. That our – falling out was proof of that. And that we hate each other, so I'll be glad to help them along with dragging you down. And if I don't or can't – "

"Wilkins will," Gene concluded.

"Yes."

They smiled at each other. A smile that spoke of understanding, trust, and friendship.

"They don't know us," Gene said.

"No. They don't."

**TBC**


	4. A Force to be Reckoned With

**Author's note: I apologize for such a long amount of time between chapters. Between Thanksgiving and a mild case of writer's block, this chapter gave me fits. I hope it's enjoyed. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and put my stories and me on alert lists. I really appreciate your kindness and consideration. Thanks, too, to Katie Duggan's Niece and theHuntgoeson for their encouragement. Finally, thanks to my friend and beta Amlyn.**

**Chapter 4**

**A Force to be Reckoned With  
**

"You must be joking!"

Ray's pronouncement was echoed by the rest of CID. The din grew louder until Gene yelled for quiet. The room settled down.

"I'm not joking," Gene said. "I've been demoted to DI."

Despite the call for quiet, renewed grumbling came from the team. Alex wanted to speak up, to offer some reassurance to everyone, but she had agreed to let Gene do this his way.

Ray spoke up again. "What about Jeffers?" he demanded. "He was supposed to speak up for us."

"He did," Gene answered. "But the higher-ups didn't like his story. At least the ones who did were outnumbered."

"That's still shit! You're the one who uncovered Operation Rose! You're the best DCI in the Met!"

Gene held up a hand. "Thanks, Ray. But the board didn't see it that way. They felt I should be punished."

"For the shooting?" Shaz asked quietly.

Gene glanced at Alex but answered readily, "Yes, and for going off on my own with the investigation into Mac and Jarvis and the heist."

Quiet settled over the department as the news began to sink in. The Guv was demoted.

"So what happens now?" asked Chris. "Do we get a new DCI?"

"Yeah," snorted Ray. "Probably some wanker who's never got out from behind a desk."

"No, that would be our new Superintendent," Gene replied sardonically. "Dennis Wilkins." Then under his breath, "Tosser." Alex couldn't suppress a grin. "No," Gene went on, "the good news is that you're getting a good DCI. Someone you all know."

The members of CID glanced at each other – all except Shaz, who looked at Alex. "Is it you, Ma'am?" she asked.

Gene smiled at the young woman. "I knew I did the right thing making you a detective," he said.

Alex watched as jaws dropped and all eyes turned to her. Glancing at Gene, she saw that he still had a smile on his face. But there was something else behind his eyes. She'd seen that same expression when he'd been convinced that she had betrayed him. It was clear that he hated this change of rank and Alex couldn't blame him. If the board wanted to humiliate him, well, they hadn't quite succeeded. But it was still tough on him.

"Shaz is right," Gene continued. "Drake's been promoted to DCI. She's in charge now."

Alex wasn't sure what she'd expected, but absolute silence and disbelieving stares did not really enter into her musings. She realized that she'd kind of hoped for—

Her thoughts were interrupted by applause. Gene led off, of course, but the rest of the team readily joined in. Alex felt herself blushing. As embarrassed as she was, though, she was grateful to Gene for making her feel that she deserved the welcome – even though it had cost him some pride.

Stepping forward, Alex gave her thanks as the applause died away. She looked around the room and saw in the faces a mixture of relief, wariness, and – distrust?

"First of all," she began, "we should remember that the team is still together. This may not be in the way that we hoped, but that's how it is for now. Ray, you asked about Chief Jeffers. As Gene said, he did what he could to support us. And, for that, he's been transferred across town."

Chris cleared his throat. "So, we've got no one to back us up," he said. "So everything we did was for nothing."

Alex shook her head. "No. Before we weren't sure of Jeffers. We can be now."

"When do you take over, Ma'am?" asked Shaz.

"I'm cleared to come back to work after New Year's." Alex paused. "I realize that this is a big change. Not one that we could have foreseen."

Ray spoke up. "Are you sure? If you put in for a promotion—"

"She didn't," Gene interrupted. "I put her in for it. Drake has earned this."

That news took a moment for the team to absorb. Alex knew that they were still looking to Gene for their cue. As long as he accepted her as the superior officer, the rest of them would. While she was grateful that he set the example, another part of Alex was annoyed. She tamped that down. It would do no good to let her own pride get in the way. They needed to trust each other. They'd learned the cost of not doing so.

Okay. Time to take charge.

"Look, I've worked with you for a year and a half," she said to the detectives. "You know how I operate. So you should know what to expect from me." She let them think about that for a moment, giving everyone a chance to imagine her as DCI.

Ray broke the silence. "So who's this Dennis Wilkins? The new Superintendent?" he asked.

Gene spoke up. "He's been put here to keep an eye on us. He's hoping that we fail. His friends among the higher-ups are hoping that we fail. They're going to be disappointed. We will not fail. Together we're tougher than they've ever seen."

Applause broke out again. Gene Hunt was a natural-born leader. He could inspire his team like no other commander Alex had ever seen. Ray had said he'd jump off Tower Bridge for the Guv. Alex knew that the rest of the team felt the same.

Would she ever be able to get that kind of loyalty?

A strange voice came from the doorway of CID. "Good morning, everyone."

Tall, dark, and handsome. That was Alex's first impression, even as she realized that the newcomer must be Superintendent Dennis Wilkins. From Gene's description of the man, she'd expected – well, a weasely-looking individual. Not someone who could play Fitzwilliam Darcy.

No one spoke for a moment. Alex stole a glance at Gene who silently exuded contempt. She looked back at Wilkins and saw a similar expression on his face. Everyone in the room could feel the animosity between the two. Alex wondered how long the standoff would last and was surprised when Gene spoke first.

"Team," he said. "This is our new Superintendent. Dennis Wilkins. Dennis, my team."

Wilkins smiled and walked toward Gene. "I think you mean DCI Drake's team," he said, turning to Alex and holding out his hand. "Good to meet you, Drake. Most happy to see that you're recovering from your gunshot wound." He smirked at Gene. "And congratulations on your promotion to Chief Inspector."

It was an obvious snub and blatant attempt at embarrassing Gene. Alex reined in her temper. She did, however, hesitate just long enough for Wilkins to understand she didn't appreciate the maneuver. She'd dealt with his kind before. Finally she shook his hand. "Superintendent," she said flatly.

His dark eyes searched hers, and Alex could see that he understood her. Wilkins released her hand and turned back to the team. "I know that all of you have gone through a rough time of late," he said. "But this is a fresh start for all of you. And in order to have that new beginning, you must let go of the past."

Alex searched the faces of the team. So far they managed to appear only wary. No one was rolling their eyes – at least not yet.

"The Met must re-establish itself as worthy of the people's trust," Wilkins continued. "There's been too much corruption. Too much betrayal of the public and of fellow officers."

And this was just too much to bear. Alex was about to interrupt when she heard Gene speak up.

"Pardon me, Superintendent," said Gene, "but you do realize that this is Fenchurch _East_ station and _not_ Fenchurch _West_?" Barely suppressed snickers came from the team. Wilkins turned sharply, anger in his eyes. Gene saw it and gave Wilkins a smile.

But the flash of temper was gone from Wilkins's face as quickly as it had come. He smiled briefly. "Of course, _DI_ Hunt. I was about to say that Fenchurch East has done quite well." He returned his attention to the team. "And I'm very proud to be your new Superintendent. My door is always open. I look forward to getting to know each of you."

Looking back, Wilkins ignored Gene and gave his attention to Alex. "Would you come by my office on the way out, DCI Drake? I wasn't expecting you to be here today, but as long as you are, I would like to speak with you."

Alex nodded. "Of course, Superintendent."

Wilkins left CID. The detectives waited until he was out of earshot, then erupted into laughter. "Brilliant, Guv!" said Ray. "Brilliant!"

"Well, I had to set him straight," Gene replied. He stepped closer to Alex and nodded toward his office. "A word," he said softly.

**********

Alex followed Gene into his office. He closed the door behind her, then sat on the edge of the desk, preferring that to sitting behind it. The office was officially hers now and Gene felt that he shouldn't take the place of authority. Alex sat beside him. "Yes, Guv?" she asked.

He shook his head. "You don't need to call me 'Guv.'"

Alex smiled. "Hard habit to break."

Crossing his arms, Gene said, "I'd offer you a drink, but since you're going in to see Wilkins—"

"—it might not be a good idea to have whisky on my breath," she concluded.

"Yeah." Gene scowled, his mouth turning down into the familiar pout.

"You're worried," Alex said.

He met her eyes. "Yeah."

"Why?"

"The only thing worse than a weasel is a weasel with power. And a wounded one, at that."

"Wounded?"

Gene stood and paced a bit. "I embarrassed him," he said. "Put him in his place. He covered, but he won't forget. And he's got some powerful people to back him up. But I couldn't let him act like this station has anything to be ashamed of! Like we're the ones with Carnegie and Walker and the rest!"

"If you hadn't said something," Alex said, "I would have."

Gene chuckled. "I know. I saw that look on your face. Another comment from him and you'd've been ready to take his head off."

"Too right," Alex said. "But you certainly got on his bad side quick enough."

"We've been on each other's bad side since the first day at Hendon."

Frowning, Alex asked, "Why? What happened that put you against each other?"

Gene considered her question. "There are some people who just do that to you," he shrugged. "My gut told me he was no good. And he soon proved me right. Wouldn't take responsibility when he did something wrong. Always found a way to blame others. Knew how to play up to the brass. He's charm itself."

"I see." Alex stood and faced him. "But that doesn't explain why you two seem to hate each other. What aren't you telling me?"

There were times when Gene got really annoyed with his Bolly. This was one of them. The way she could see right through him when he most wanted her not to. Or maybe deep down he did want her to see and ask what was wrong. Gene wasn't sure.

"All right," he said. "In training there was a man who, well, he wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer. But he was a good man. Name was Randall. Big guy. Huge. Working class boy. Would've made a decent copper. He and Wilkins were paired together for some of the training exercises. The idea was to put a smarter lad with a slower one. Wilkins didn't like that. Toward the end of training, Randall went out with some mates, got drunk, got into a fight, put a civilian in hospital. The civilian wanted to press charges. Some of us spoke up for Randall, but in the end, because he was the only one of the group in the fight, Randall was dismissed. He went to work in a factory. Wanted nothing more to do with us."

Alex looked into Gene's eyes. "And you were one of Randall's mates, out with him that night," she said.

"No. I wasn't." He smiled at the stunned expression on Alex's face. "You're wrong this time, Bolls. _Wilkins_ was in that little party. And never spoke up for Randall. Went right along with the decision to dismiss. And because Wilkins was smart and upper class—"

"His opinion was given more weight," finished Alex.

"Right."

"Well, I can understand the bad blood now." Alex sat on the edge of the desk again.

"So you'll understand when I tell you," Gene said, "that Wilkins is a weasel. He has no loyalty to anyone but himself. Don't underestimate him."

"Don't worry," Alex told him. "I've dealt with his kind before. I can handle him."

"I've no doubt." Gene moved closer to stand in front of her. "Still, wouldn't do any harm to let him think you're on his side. Be a scared, mousy little thing. Or the opposite. Bat your eyelashes and flash your knickers."

Alex stared at him. She stood up and shook her head. "That would never work," she said. "He'd never believe it."

"Oh?"

"Of course not. As you've said, I've got a rotten poker face."

Gene had to resist the urge to kiss her.

**********

Wilkins welcomed Alex into his office. He motioned her to a chair while he leaned against his desk. It was a position that he tried to make casual, but Alex saw it differently. When Gene adopted a similar stance, his body language let the other person know if the meeting was casual or business. Wilkins was a bundle of nerves. Unsure. Wary. This knowledge made Alex more relaxed. She leaned back in the chair as best she could and spoke first. "What did you want to talk about, Superintendent?" It was a power play and she couldn't resist. Bat her eyes, indeed!

As with the handshake moments earlier, Wilkins got the message. "May I get you some tea?" he asked. "Or perhaps something stronger?"

"No, thank you. I'm fine."

"I can see that." Wilkins moved to sit behind his desk. He immediately appeared more comfortable. "When are you scheduled to be back on duty?"

"After the first of the year. Why?"

"Could you possibly return next week?"

Alex wasn't expecting this. She thought that Wilkins would want to talk about Gene and how the former DCI needed strong supervision or some such nonsense. "I would need my doctor's approval," she answered.

Wilkins nodded. "Perhaps he would agree to desk duty."

"What makes you certain that my doctor is a man?" Alex asked, just to watch him squirm.

He obliged. "Well— that is— I simply assumed— "

"My doctor _is_ a man," she said.

"Yes. Well, I assure you that I support women's rights," Wilkins hurried to explain. "I was most happy to hear of your promotion. We need more women in detective work. And in command."

"I agree. But why do you want me to return so soon?"

He frowned. "Because we are short-handed. Thanks to the actions of DI Hunt, we'll be down three men – er, people. I understand that two officers will be getting married this weekend."

"Yes. DC Skelton and WDC Granger. But you can hardly blame that on DCI Hunt." Yes, it was silly to play a game with the title before Gene's name; but every time Wilkins said "DI Hunt," it was with such a sneer that Alex had to counter him.

But Wilkins would have none of that. "Hunt has been demoted. The sooner we become accustomed to that, the better."

All right. They'd get this out in the open and done with. "I still find it hard to understand," Alex began, "that Gene Hunt _would_ be demoted. The man responsible for uncovering rampant corruption in the Met. That he would be treated this way—"

"And I find it hard to understand," Wilkins interrupted, "that you would so readily defend the man who nearly killed you."

The superintendent sounded legitimately puzzled, but Alex knew that was an act. He had to have read the complete report, including her statement on the matter. "Good god, that was an accident!" Alex snapped. "Or haven't you heard?"

"I know the official version, but you must admit that the events leading up to the shooting demonstrate a serious lack of trust between you and Hunt. Thus my amazement that you would support him now."

Alex narrowed her eyes. Gene had described Wilkins as a weak man who looked for weaknesses in others. What he didn't add was that Wilkins could never truly comprehend another person's strengths. She was tempted to tell the new Super that she and Gene had a trust beyond Wilkins's experience. They had learned the consequences of abandoning that trust. But perhaps it was too soon to play that card. It might get her or Gene moved out of Fenchurch East – and the survival of the entire team depended on them both at this point.

"Let's just say that Hunt and I have reached an understanding," she offered.

That appeared to satisfy Wilkins for now. "I see. Of course that isn't the only reason. If Hunt had reported his suspicions earlier, lives might have been saved. Yours was nearly lost when he shot you."

"I believe Chief Jeffers explained the investigation into Superintendent Mackintosh's actions." Might as well try that line, see if Wilkins bought any of it.

"Jeffers is to be commended for supporting his men," Wilkins said. "But it's clear that Gene Hunt has little regard for the chain of command." He paused. "I hope that he will, at least, have some respect for his new commander. Do you anticipate any problems in that area?"

Ah. Probing for a weakness. "No, Superintendent," Alex replied. "None whatsoever." Wilkins frowned a bit at that answer, and she had to suppress a smile.

"There is another matter we need to discuss," said the Super. "This business of DC Skelton and WPC Granger."

"W_D_C Granger," corrected Alex. "She has been made a detective."

"Yes. Hunt gave a good account of why she deserved that, although his judgment has been called into question of late."

Alex smiled. "Only a moment ago you said that you support more women as detectives."

"I do," Wilkins hastened to say, a bit defensively. "It's just that I foresee problems with having Skelton and Granger on the same team. One of them should have been moved out long ago. Hunt should have separated them as soon as their attachment became evident. Now any marital problems will be brought into work. People will take sides. And there's a danger of that bringing down morale—"

"DC Skelton and WDC Granger have been dating for some time," Alex told him, "and nothing like that has ever come up. They know how to conduct themselves on the job. I don't see any problem with their continuing to work on the same team. Skelton usually works with Carling. Granger will be paired with another detective."

"Nevertheless, the two will be on their honeymoon next week. As I said, because of Hunt's actions – or lack thereof – we'll be down three officers. Unless you can return and take over by then. The unit needs to be brought into line as soon as possible. The board of review believes that you can do that. Can you?"

Alex felt her jaw tighten. "This unit doesn't need to be brought into line. Under the leadership of Gene Hunt, you have one of the cleanest stations in the Met. You should be grateful. He's made your new job and mine that much easier. I think you'll learn very quickly that Fenchurch East CID is a force to be reckoned with. That is, as far as the criminal element is concerned." She gave Wilkins a sly smile. "You'll be the envy of every other Superintendent in the city."

She let the statement sink in, hoping that she'd made enough of an impression on him. Alex Drake was not going to be pushed around. And neither was Gene Hunt.

Wilkins stood, signaling an end to the meeting. "Please let me know if you can return next week, Alex," he said. "You don't mind if I call you 'Alex,' do you?"

Alex got to her feet. "Actually, I prefer 'Drake.'"

**TBC…**


	5. Some Things Are Meant to Be

**Author's note: Once again I've taken such a long time to get a chapter posted. My apologies. It's the most wonderful and often stressful time of the year. This chapter is pretty long for me. About twice what I normally post. I hope it's enjoyed. Many thanks to everyone who has reviewed and placed me on their alert lists.**

**Chapter 5**

**Some Things Are Meant to Be  
**

The occasion was unprecedented. Gene Hunt had left the station for lunch – at 1:00 in the afternoon. He and Alex sat in a café near Fenchurch East, a place that Gene described as "girlie" and said that he was the only man present. Alex drew his attention to men at other tables and he scoffed, "They're all big girl's blouses." Gene also complained about the lack of alcohol. But it was a restaurant where they were unlikely to run into any other cops. Better for a quiet talk.

Alex filled him in on her conversation with Wilkins.

"Come back early?!" Gene was furious. He should have known that Wilkins would do something that underhanded. The woman was still recovering from— His thoughts stopped cold. He didn't like to think about why Alex was on medical leave.

"Yes," Alex replied. "Next Monday. Wilkins says it's because of the honeymooners—"

"I'm not going to tell them they _can't_ go!"

"--and because the team needs to be kept in line," Alex continued.

Wilkins had done one thing after another to test Gene's temper. The snide comments about the shooting and the demotion were the start. But the swipe at the team followed. Now the new Super was working on Alex, forcing her to come back early. Gene knew his Bolly. She would take the "request" to return early as a challenge, and the insinuation that the team be "kept in line" would just gall her. She'd want to prove Wilkins wrong on every count – and she would push herself too hard to do so.

That last thought was enough for Gene to get his anger under control. He had decided to take care of Alex because sometimes he wasn't sure she could take care of herself. "Bolly," he said, "forget about Wilkins. Your doctor said after New Year's. Listen to him."

"Don't worry," Alex said. "I've no intention of doing anything without the doctor's approval."

But Gene very much doubted that.

Alex went on. "I can certainly understand why you don't like Wilkins. He is – to use your word – a weasel."

Giving her a sly look, Gene asked, "So you didn't fall for his handsome face and charming personality?"

Her reply was a barely audible huff of annoyance.

Their food arrived, soup and salad for Alex, a steak and kidney pie for Gene. The dish looked tasty enough, but he couldn't help frowning. "Can't believe the prices here," he grumbled. "I could get three pies down the pub for what this costs -- and a pint to wash 'em down."

"It's on me," Alex sighed. "Tuck in."

Gene picked up a fork and started eating. Two bites in, he stopped. There was something different about this pie. He took a few more bites. This was really good. The meat was tender, the crust was light, and he could swear there was some red wine in it. It wasn't like any pub pie he'd ever had. He was about half done with the dish when he noticed Alex grinning at him.

"Good?" she asked.

"All right," he conceded. "It's good. Really good. You've spoiled me for pub food. You happy?"

Alex giggled. "As a matter of fact, I am," she said.

Gene couldn't help laughing, too. It had been so long since he'd seen that expression of absolute joy on her face. "Tell you what, Bolls. Lunch is on me. Don't know how I'll ever live this down, though. Enjoying food in a poof place like this."

"Your secret is safe with me," she assured him.

**********

Despite the Guv's efforts to put the changes in a good light, the detectives of CID were quiet after their new DCI left. Each member of the team was contemplating life without Gene Hunt as their commander. They liked Drake. She was a good cop. Tough, fair, smart. She was a good DI, too. Not one to demand they do things that she herself wasn't willing to do. That was more than could be said for superiors they'd dealt with in the past.

But it was still a tough for them to accept.

**********

At lunchtime Ray sat with Chris and Shaz in the canteen. The couple were, as usual, discussing the wedding. It seemed to Ray that was all they ever talked about these days. Shaz gave Chris a list of tasks to finish before Saturday. The list included basic things, and Ray chuckled to himself that the young DC would need such instructions: _Pick up suit -- Polish shoes – Get a haircut_. Common sense items. A man would have to be a complete div not to know those things. Chris was listening intently, trying to take in everything.

Suddenly a folded piece of paper was thrust under Ray's nose. "Here's your list, Ray," Shaz said.

"Hang on!" he protested. "Chris is the one you're marryin', not me!" Ray tried to give the paper back to Shaz, who shook her head.

"Just read it," she told him.

"No. You can boss him around." Ray nodded toward the groom. "But not me."

"Ray." Shaz's voice was soft but insistent. "Please just look at the list. If there's anything you can't agree with, fine."

Scowling, Ray finally opened the paper. There were two items listed: _Make sure you have the ring – Make sure Chris does everything on his list_. He smiled at Shaz. "Okay," he said. "That I can do."

Shaz grinned. "Thanks, Ray."

"What is it?" Chris asked.

Ray gave him the note. Chris frowned at Shaz. "You don't think I manage?" he asked,

"I think two heads are better than one," answered his fiancée. "Especially when I know you're trying so hard to do everything. I have my cousin Teresa making sure I do what's on my list."

That news cheered Chris, who leaned forward to give Shaz a kiss. Ray rolled his eyes. "Can't you two give it a rest?" he complained. "At least during work?"

The couple laughed. "All right," agreed Shaz. "We will."

They all went back to their food and were quiet for few minutes until Chris broke the silence. "What do you think will happen now? I mean with the Guv and DI Drake."

"DCI Drake," Shaz corrected.

"And _DI_ Hunt," added Ray, not attempting to hide the disgust.

Shaz looked back and forth between Chris and Ray, noting the worried expression on each face. "How do you think the Guv's really taking it?" she asked.

Ray pushed his plate aside and took out his cigarettes. "I can tell you this," he said, lighting up. "They're doing this to shame him. They demote him. Promote his DI – the person he shot. Drake's good and all, but they wouldn't've put her in charge if the Guv hadn't been on their shit list after all that with Mac and the blag. They're just waitin' for a chance to get rid of him and split us up. Even put one of their guys in charge of us. The Guv may act like he's all right with it, but they couldn't've done a better job of getting at him."

"You make it sound like we're all done for," Chris said.

"Yeah?" Ray stubbed out his cigarette. "Maybe we are."

"Listen to you two," said Shaz. "Since when have the Guv and Drake let us down? They've always looked after the team and they still are. It'll be all right."

Chris took her hand. "I hope you're right, luv."

As they walked back to CID, Ray cleared his throat. "So, Shaz," he asked, trying to keep his tone casual, "this cousin of yours. Teresa. Is she a bridesmaid?"

**********

By the time they were finished with lunch, Gene could see that Alex was exhausted. She'd pushed herself that morning and dark circles had developed under her eyes. He drove her back home and watched as she entered her building. Damn Wilkins, wanting her to come back so soon!

Gene went back to the station and spent the afternoon sorting through current investigations and conferring with prosecutors on upcoming court cases. He didn't like that part of the job and usually handed it off to Alex. He wondered if she would start doing that to him. Give him the jobs that she didn't like.

If Alex was going to be back the next Monday, there was a lot to be done. Gene began planning out everything. By late afternoon the team was ready to leave. He sent them on their way, declining a trip to Luigi's or a pub. And, truth be told, he was tired of seeing sympathetic looks from all of them.

So now he was alone. Alone in his kingdom.

Only it wasn't his kingdom. Not anymore.

He was still angry about the entire matter. But there was something else that Gene would never admit to anyone. It hurt. Having his position of authority taken away? Being forced to stay in the department with those he'd once commanded? Maybe technically he still had some authority and command. But he was no longer the Guv. This morning he'd had three weeks to get used to the idea of being DI instead of DCI. Now he had less than a week.

He took another look around the room. Gene was proud of his team. He was proud of the job he'd done over the years. Well, for the most part. There were things he regretted. Crimes he could have prevented. Deaths he felt some responsibility for. He'd gone too far on more than one occasion. Roughed up people who might've talked in some other way. But overall, he'd done the best he could as a detective and as a commander.

The team would have to adjust. They liked Alex. Respected her. But this would be different.

Finding a couple of empty boxes, he set about clearing personal items from the office. He'd get the cleaners to give the room a thorough going over at the end of the week. Gene filled one box with his Western paraphernalia. He was no longer the sheriff.

**********

Alex spent most of the week indulging in some "retail therapy." She needed new clothes for the job. And a new dress – and hat, just in case -- for the wedding. Finally, she made appointments for a haircut, manicure, and pedicure. It had been a while since she'd indulged herself.

There was also the appointment with her doctor. He agreed that Alex could return to work, provided she kept mostly to desk duties and took things slow and easy. Alex wondered if the man knew anything about police work.

Thursday evening she joined the team at Luigi's. The detectives were carrying on as they often did; only Chris and Shaz were at their own table. Luigi saw Alex coming in and smiled. "Signorina. So good to see you. Is it true that you are the new DCI? You'll be their boss?" The Italian gestured toward the members of CID.

"Yes, Luigi," Alex acknowledged. "It's true."

"Congratulations! Dinner tonight is no charge. And I will bring you a bottle of champagne to celebrate."

"No! I mean—" The last thing Alex wanted was to toast her new position while sitting with the man who'd lost his. "It's very kind of you, but instead of bringing the champagne to me, please give it to Shaz and Chris."

Luigi beamed. "Such a kind thing for the young couple. I will do just that. But you will still allow me to buy you the dinner?"

"Yes. Eggplant. And thank you, Luigi."

Gene was in his usual place and watched Alex as she approached. She was reminded of the first time she'd seen him there. The same expression was on his face now. And once more Alex was amazed by how her feelings for this man had grown, in spite of everything.

"Well," she began, sitting next to Gene, "how did it go today?"

"Little Lord Dennis was his usual pain in the derriere," he answered. "All but lookin' over my shoulder, waiting for some reason to get rid of me."

"Derriere? That's French."

"Don't tell me you're prejudiced, Bolls," Gene smirked. "Not everything French is bad. Like Catherine Deneuve. That's one beautiful lady."

Before Alex could think of a suitable male equivalent to the exquisite Deneuve, her food was delivered. Then Shaz walked up. "Sorry to interrupt, Ma'am," she said, "but I was wondering if you're coming to my hen night."

"Wouldn't miss it," Alex told her.

"Great!" Shaz gave Alex a piece of paper. "Here's the address. Nine tomorrow night." She rejoined her fiancé.

Although Gene didn't want to talk about the job, Alex insisted. She needed to be aware of the current caseload even before coming back to work the next week. That plan bothered Gene. "I still think you need more time to recover," he grumbled. "Let me deal with Wilkins. You don't need to protect me."

"I _want_ to come back," Alex replied.

"You want to prove that you're tougher than he thinks," Gene said flatly. "Just take it easy. I don't want you fainting in the middle of an interrogation."

Alex gave him a look, shook her head, and dug into her plate of eggplant parmigiana.

But deep inside she knew he had a point.

**********

Normally Shaz would invite Chris into her flat after a night at Luigi's. On this night she didn't. "I really need to get to sleep," she explained. "Still so much to do tomorrow and Saturday."

"All right, lover," Chris said, though he still took the opportunity for a nice, long kiss.

Slipping her arms around his neck, Shaz returned the kiss and hugged him tight. "I love you, Baby," she whispered in his ear.

"I love you," he replied.

"But there's just one thing," Shaz went on. She took a step back and looked him in the eye. "It's about your stag do tomorrow night."

"Don't worry," Chris said. "I won't get too drunk. I'd only be sick anyway."

Shaz shook her head. "That's not it. Look, I know there'll be a stripper there."

Chris blushed and stammered. "I don't know—"

"_Ray's_ hosting. There's going to be a stripper."

"Yeah," Chris admitted. "You're probably right."

"Well, I want you to know that it's all right."

She'd clearly taken him by surprise. "You don't mind?" Chris asked in amazement.

"It's not that I don't mind. It's just that I understand." She traced her fingers down his tie. "So go ahead. Look at her all you want. But…" Shaz grabbed the tied and pulled Chris toward her just a little. "You are not – I repeat, _not_ to lay one hand, one finger on her. In fact…" Shaz inched toward her fiancé. "You are not to allow any part of your body to touch any part of hers." She smiled sweetly. "Do you understand?"

"Of course!" Chris exclaimed. "I would never—"

"_And_ don't think that you could do that and get away with it," Shaz went on. "Because I will find out. Ray will be there and he's absolutely incapable of keeping his mouth shut, especially about anything that might embarrass someone else."

Chris nodded. "You're right."

"So we understand each other?"

"Yes."

"Good." Shaz smiled again, then kissed Chris hard. "Besides," she whispered, "you know there's _nothing_ you could get from her that will top what you can get from me."

Chris grinned. "Yes, lover."

**********

The weather cooperated beautifully for the wedding day. That Saturday morning Alex had been grateful for the clear skies as she finished up her errands. It had been a while since she had been to a wedding and was especially excited about this one. Shaz and Chris's winter wedding. Just one week before Christmas. While Alex was in hospital, the young WDC had been a regular visitor, and they'd spoken often of the coming ceremony. It was going to be beautiful.

Her new dark blue dress hung on the wardrobe door. It was cut low and fit perfectly. And it cost more than she was accustomed to spending. But Alex knew that her new rank would call for a more serious wardrobe, so she wanted something more feminine for her off hours.

Before she could finish dressing, she heard a knock at the door. It had to be Gene. Donning her red robe, she called, "Come on in!"

Familiar footsteps echoed through the kitchen and into the living room. "Do you always leave your door unlocked, Drakey?" Gene asked. "Because that does not seem to be the most intelligent move for a DCI!"

"I knew you'd be early, just to annoy me," Alex replied. "So I unlocked it about five minutes ago." She entered the living room and for a second forgot to breathe. Gene was dressed in a black tailored suit, with a white shirt and a silver-blue tie. He'd foregone the snakeskin boots for a pair of black dress boots. He was—

"You're very handsome," she said softly.

To her surprise, Gene appeared embarrassed, but pleased. "Well, don't sound so amazed, Bolly," he replied brusquely. "I do know how to dress for an occasion."

Something about his clothes caught Alex's attention. "I gave you that tie last Christmas," she said, remembering when she'd found it at the department store. The color perfectly matched Gene's eyes and she couldn't resist buying it.

"That's right," he said.

"I've never seen you wear it before."

"It's silk!" Gene exclaimed. "I'm not going to wear a silk tie to work!"

Alex grinned. "Of course. I should have thought of that."

"You cut your hair," he commented.

"This morning," she said.

His eyes traveled up and down her body. Suddenly she wished that they didn't have to go anywhere. That they could just stay here, together, for the rest of the night. And from the expression on Gene's face, he felt the same.

But…

"I, uh, I'll be just a few more minutes," Alex said.

"Right," Gene said, a bit quickly. "I'll wait downstairs at Luigi's."

She nodded. "I'll meet you there."

He left the flat and Alex felt herself relax. _What would have happened?_ she wondered. _If we had nowhere else to go?_

**********

Gene decided not to go to Luigi's. Instead he waited at the foot of the stairs for Alex to come down.

Why did she have to be so sexy? All she did was stand there in that robe. Stand on those incredible, never-ending legs. And all he wanted to do was to sweep her off her feet, carry her into her bedroom and not leave until they'd shagged each other senseless.

Footsteps on the stairs caught his attention. Alex came walking down, treading carefully on high heels, carrying a hat and overcoat. Her blue dress hugged every curve, accentuating her figure and even drawing attention to her legs. Gene gazed at her, amazed by the sight of a woman so—

"Beautiful," he whispered.

She continued down, stopping on the step just above him. Alex's eyes were soft as they met his.

"You're not supposed to be upstaging the bride, Bolly," Gene said, this time loud enough for her to hear.

Alex gave him a little smile. "Thank you, but I doubt I'll be upstaging a bride as young and lovely as Shaz."

"Depends on who's doing the looking," Gene returned. _If we could just stay here,_ he thought,_ then maybe…_

**********

The hotel ballroom was crowded with family and friends of Mr. and Mrs. Chris Skelton. Despite Gene's protests about the seating arrangements, he did not occupy a place at the head table. He and Alex sat near the front of the room with Viv and Melanie James. Alex had never before met the Skip's wife and the two women were already chatting like old friends while the men talked about work and football.

Ray stepped up to the microphone, holding a glass of champagne, and the crowd fell silent. "I've known Chris for about twelve years now," he began. "He's a fine copper and a good mate. When he saw Shaz that first time, I knew he was done for. But never thought he had a chance. Not with a bird like her. Lucky for him she could ignore that ugly mug of his." Gentle laughter swept through the hotel ballroom. Ray continued his toast. "Anyway, here's to the happy couple. Chris, you're one lucky man. And Shaz, you've got a good one there. Cheers."

Applause erupted throughout the room. "I'm shocked," Alex laughed. "Ray actually gave a nice toast."

Viv leaned forward. "I think the number of people here intimidated him," he offered.

"Well, I have to say this was such a beautiful wedding," Melanie commented.

"Yes, it was," Alex agreed. If Alex was honest with herself, she was feeling a bit intimidated herself. Melanie James was an incredibly beautiful woman, with skin the color of mahogany and eyes that were golden brown. And a fantastic figure for a mother of three.

"I loved the little red beret Shaz wore," continued Melanie. "Such a novel touch."

"She certainly has her own style."

Around the room conversation was dying down and Alex heard Ray's voice again. "Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. and Mrs. Chris Skelton." Chris and Shaz walked out to the middle of the dance floor and began a slow dance to "Unchained Melody." The young couple made a sweet picture. Clearly, completely in love. Alex tried to recall if she felt that way with Pete and came up blank. Sometimes she could not believe that something as perfect and wonderful as Molly came from their union.

After the couple's first dance, the floor began to fill up. Viv and Melanie were one of the first pairs out and soon put other couples to shame. "Melanie told me that she and Viv have been taking ballroom dancing lessons for nearly a year," Alex informed Gene.

"Yeah, Viv told me the same thing," Gene replied. "He also asked me not to tell the other men. That he'd never live it down."

"So when are you planning to let everyone know?" Alex asked him.

He smiled slyly. "You know me too well, Bolly. I figure on Monday."

Alex shook her head. "You're terrible. And you know as well as I that most of the men here are wishing they looked as good on the dance floor as Viv."

"That might be," Gene acknowledged. "Still won't stop them winding him up."

"I'll never understand men," she sighed.

"Better learn fast. You're going to be in charge of a lot of them come Monday."

Monday. It was approaching fast and Alex still wasn't sure if she truly was ready. She had been in a place of authority at Fenchurch East for several months now. But on Monday Gene Hunt would be added to that group.

Shaz and Chris were making the rounds, chatting with the guests. They finally reached Alex and Gene. The newly married pair were beaming, and Alex returned their smiles. "We're really glad you're here today," Chris told them.

"That's right," Shaz said. "It wouldn't have been the same without you both here."

"The wedding was wonderful," Alex said. "And you're beautiful, Shaz."

Gene stood and shook Chris's hand. "Congratulations," he said warmly. Then he took Shaz's hand and leaned down to kiss her cheek. "Alex is right," he told her. "You're absolutely beautiful, Shaz."

"Thank you, Guv," the young woman replied. "Are you going to dance with me?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

While Shaz and Gene went out to the dance floor, Chris held out his arm for Alex. "Ma'am? Would you like to dance?"

"I'd love to, Chris."

After dancing with the newlyweds, Alex and Gene went back to their table. The music went on from one song to another. Alex was disappointed that Gene had not invited her to dance. Ray came by a moment later and settled into one of the empty chairs. "Evening, Ma'am, Guv," he nodded. "Where are the Skip and his missus?"

"Either dancing or talking with someone at another table," answered Gene.

"Ray," Alex said, "that was a very nice toast you gave."

"Yeah, well, I thought about making it funny, but…" Ray shrugged. "They deserved something nice. Besides, we gave Chris a bad enough time last night." He and Gene both burst out laughing at some memory that Alex was just as glad not to share.

"Honestly," she huffed, "I'll say it again. I never will understand men." The two men just chuckled in response.

The deejay started playing "Wild Night" and Ray stood. "Like to dance, Ma'am?" Alex grinned and took his hand.

Gene leaned back and watched them. He liked seeing Alex have a good time. She deserved some fun after all she'd been through. But "Wild Night" wasn't his idea of a song to accompany a dance with Bolly. When would the deejay play something a little slower? Gene wanted to hold Alex. To put his arms around her waist and pull her close. If the deejay was going to play Van Morrison, why couldn't he throw in "Tupelo Honey" or "Crazy Love?" That idea actually made Gene chuckle to himself. "Crazy Love" might be the best song for them. After all, here they were, practically on a date, and just a few weeks ago he'd shot her. They were _both_ certifiable.

The song ended and Alex and Ray returned to the table. "Thanks, Ma'am," Ray said.

"That was so much fun!" Alex exclaimed. "Thanks, Ray."

"Yeah. That Van Morrison's not bad," Ray observed. "Even if he is Irish." Alex sighed. "What?" he asked innocently. "It's a compliment." Gene laughed as he watched Alex roll her eyes.

Ray lit up a cigarette and looked around the room.

"What is it?" Alex asked him. "Are you looking for someone?"

"He's looking for a bird to pull," Gene said

Ray appeared embarrassed but Alex smiled. "What's wrong?" she asked. "None of the bridesmaids strike your fancy?"

Meeting her gaze, Ray asked, "What is it with women? I chatted up the bridesmaids and they all acted like, I don't know, like they didn't want anything to do with me."

"Maybe they have boyfriends already," offered Alex. Gene refrained from snorting. He knew Alex was trying to spare Ray's feelings. The bridesmaids were about Shaz's age. Gene suspected Ray was a bit too old for them.

Alex continued. "What about Shaz's cousin Teresa?" She nodded toward a young brunette woman sitting at a table across the dance floor. "She's been giving you the eye all evening."

Ray glanced back at the lady in question. "She has?" he asked, looking to Gene for an opinion.

Gene nodded. "She has."

Instead of reassuring Ray, that news seemed to make him uneasy. "What is it?" Alex asked. "She's quite pretty."

"She's got to be 30!" answered Ray.

"And how old are you?!" Alex shot back.

Ray ignored the question. "She's a widow. Got a kid."

"Yes, she told me last night at the hen party. A little boy named Edmund. Five years old. Is that a problem?"

"And she's a teacher." Ray stubbed out his cigarette.

It was clear that Alex was completely puzzled by Ray's attitude, so Gene stepped in. "She's educated," he told Alex.

She was still bewildered. "I don't understand," Alex said.

"_I'm_ _not_ educated," Ray said flat out. "She is. She's _smart_."

Alex turned to Gene, who shrugged a bit. He knew how Ray felt and was curious to see what Alex would tell him.

"Ray," she began, "you are a policeman. A cop. A great cop and a brilliant detective. In other words, you're a very intelligent man. At least I thought you were intelligent. But if you ignore a beautiful woman like that who's obviously interested in you, I'll have to change my mind and come to the conclusion that you're an idiot."

Stunned, Ray looked to Gene, who nodded in agreement with Alex. "She's right," Gene told him. "Go ask Teresa to dance." Ray continued to glance back and forth between them. Then he stood up and walked across the room.

Gene raised his glass of champagne. "Well, Mother," he said. "The children are growing up and leaving the nest."

Alex laughed and raised her glass in return. They sat a moment in companionable silence. Alex's eyes swept over the room, recognizing some people. But there was one person who should have been there and wasn't.

"I'm surprised that Annie isn't here, after all that time working with Chris," Alex said. "I'd like to meet her."

It was the wrong thing to say. Gene's face darkened. He didn't appear angry with Alex. If anything, it was an expression of pain and sadness and something else she couldn't pinpoint. "Annie's not here," he said, "because of me." Gene drained the last of the champagne from his glass. "I wonder if there's a real drink around here," he muttered.

Of course. _I should have known, _Alex thought. For Annie, seeing Gene would only bring back memories of Sam. And being present for a wedding would only double the pain.

_Why did she have to mention Annie?_ Gene thought. _I'm the last person on earth Annie would want to see._ He tried to shake off the bad mood Alex's innocent comment brought on. There was no way that Alex could know…

There was a pause in the music and Gene stood, holding out his hand. "Shall we dance, Bolly?" Alex nodded in return. They moved out to the floor and Gene took her into his arms as the next song started. He immediately recognized the opening notes of piano music. Why hadn't he waited to see what the song would be? This was going to be uncomfortable.

Elvis's voice came through the speakers as they began to move with the music.

"_Wise men say only fools rush in. But I can't help falling in love with you."_

He was certain he could feel Alex freeze for a split second. Or maybe he had. In either case, here they were, dancing to the most romantic song that Elvis ever recorded – with all of Fenchurch East CID in attendance.

"_Shall I stay? Would it be a sin if I can't help falling in love with you?"_

Alex raised her eyes to his. Gene wanted to pull her closer, put his cheek against hers, and not worry about who was watching. But he couldn't. Even though he knew at that moment that Alex wanted the same thing.

_What were they playing at?_ he wondered. These weeks of acting as though nothing had ever come between them. That all was forgiven and forgotten. Even if he was falling in love with her, nothing could ever come of it. This song of love and being together forever just brought home the knowledge that it would never be.

"_Like a river flows surely to the sea. Darling, so it goes. Some things are meant to be."_

For a split second Alex wondered if Gene knew this song was going to be played. Then she understood just as quickly that he couldn't have. The expression on his face showed his surprise and uneasiness at the selection.

"_Take my hand. Take my whole life, too. For I can't help falling in love with you."_

Alex had never been a big Elvis fan, but she loved this song. But to hear it right now, at a wedding, made her feel like a fool. She was allowing herself to fall in love with Gene, even though there could be no future for them. Not while Molly was waiting for her. Not while Alex longed for her daughter. Not if her recovery in 2008 would mean the end of her existence in 1982. A real relationship with Gene would break both their hearts. It just could never be.

"_Like a river flows surely to the sea. Darling, so it goes. Some things are meant to be…"_

**********

Less than an hour later Shaz and Chris were off on their honeymoon. Ray offered to see Teresa home. Viv and Melanie said their goodnights to everyone and headed home to their kids. And Gene was driving Alex back to her flat.

They'd barely spoken since their one dance together. Viv and Melanie had come back to the table, so Alex and Gene spent the rest of the evening talking with the other couple. But now they were alone.

Finding a parking space near her building, Gene eased the Quattro in and killed the engine. He walked her to her door.

To her surprise, Alex heard herself saying, "Would you like to come in for some coffee?"

A few hours earlier, he would have said yes. Now Gene knew that whatever chance they'd had was gone.

"I'd better be going," he said.

Alex nodded. "All right. I'll see you Monday, then."

"Monday."

She unlocked the door, stepped inside, and looked back. "Good night," she said.

"Good night." He walked away.

Alex went about her usual bedtime routine, trying not to dwell on what had changed between Gene and herself. When she turned out the light, however, and climbed into bed, an overwhelming sadness enveloped her. The last few weeks, making that connection again with Gene – it was as if it all disappeared. She was more lonely now than she'd ever been while in this world. Gene's world.

When Gene left Alex's flat, he went back down to the Quattro. He sat for a moment, smoking and thinking. It was done with. The end of something that had never really begun. He started the engine, ready to head to his favorite pub and get roaring drunk. Better that than dealing with the anger and loneliness that was threatening to overtake him.

TBC…


	6. DCI Alex Drake

**Author's note: I was hoping to get a Christmas chapter post on Christmas Eve and I made it! Okay, if you're going by U.S. time. And this isn't quite what I'd hoped it would be. The chapter became much longer than originally planned. Consequently, Christmas really isn't in this chapter. It's in Chapter 7 – which will be posted on Christmas Day.**

**Chapter 6**

**DCI Alex Drake**

On Monday morning, Alex entered Fenchurch East station at 6:50. She wanted to be the first one on the job, there before anyone else. Entering the empty room, she turned on the lights and went straight for the office. Halfway across the room, she stopped. The office door no longer read "DCI Gene Hunt." The wording was now "DCI Alex Drake." The sight was enough to shake her up a little. Odd that that was one change she'd not envisioned.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the office door and stepped inside. The place felt unusually cold, and not because of the weather outside. No, it was the absence of Gene Hunt. All of his personal items were gone. The bookcase and the shelves behind the desk were bare. No cowboy hat. No Western items of any kind. The coffee maker remained, but the photos and knickknacks that had been scattered about on the file cabinets and desk had been taken away. The office was cleaned, top to bottom. The desk key was in the top drawer lock. Alex opened the drawers to find the items she'd left in her old desk had been placed in her new one, exactly as she'd had them arranged before. Although she could attribute the tidiness of the room to the cleaners, the desk could only have been done by Gene.

For some reason, that knowledge touched Alex more than she could have imagined. She sat down, blinking back tears that had begun to form. Gene had worked hard all his life and was now being punished for doing the right thing. Anger burned through her, directed toward Mac, Carnegie, Wilkins, and the board. And hatred for Martin Summers for using her and Gene to appease his own conscience, tearing them apart in the process. And a mixture of both for herself, for allowing Summers to do that. And for allowing her desperation to return home make her fall for Summers's empty promises – and forget the man who had been her rock.

Gene. Alex wondered how he'd spent his Sunday. Hers was lonely, thinking about the wedding reception and missed opportunities, envisioning a night in Gene's arms. But she was convinced that she'd done the right thing in pushing him away. It was better to stay as friends than risk heartache as lovers.

Some way to start her new career as a Detective Chief Inspector! Sitting here fighting back tears. It wasn't the time for looking back. Nor even looking to the future. She had a job in the present and people depending on her here.

Pushing herself away from the desk, Alex got up and went into the kitchen to start some water boiling. She had a feeling she'd need a lot of tea today.

As he walked down the hall, Gene saw the lights on in CID and knew that Alex had come in early. He paused for a moment. Apparently they both needed time to adjust to their new positions. It would be his first morning sitting at her old desk and vice versa. They had to act as though all was normal – in spite of the fact that everything was far from it.

Gene wondered how Alex's Sunday had gone. He'd slept a good deal of the time, after stumbling home at 2:00 a.m. Nothing like a lot of whisky – a lot -- to knock him out. Less time to second-guess himself about the night before. Of course, that hadn't stopped his subconscious from putting incredible dreams about Alex into his sleep. But they were just that – dreams. And he had to start getting used to the idea. Just as he had to get used to being a Detective Inspector.

Alex came out of the kitchen with a cup of tea and stopped upon seeing Gene in the doorway. She didn't look the same. The shorter hair wasn't softened by a dress. She wore a suit. That surprised Gene. He'd never thought of her as the suit type. Then he noticed the large hoop earrings. His Bolly was still there.

"Good morning," he said.

"Good morning," she said in return. "I didn't expect anyone else in so early. I – did you arrange that?" she asked, motioning toward the office door.

"What?" He followed her gesture. "Oh, your name. Yeah, I did. Wilkins was gonna have them put 'Alexandra Drake.' I knew you'd prefer 'Alex.'"

"Yes. I do. Thank you."

This was getting off to an awkward start. Someone had to take charge – and Alex understood that Gene wasn't about to. "Well," she said, "let's get started on the current cases, shall we? I need to know where we are with the investigations."

Gene had done his best to sort out his feelings about being bossed around. But thinking about it wasn't the same as its happening. And now he was certain about one thing.

He didn't like it.

Not even from Alex, who was doing her best to soften the delivery. He wasn't sure that he didn't resent that more. But what was he to do?

He took several files from his desk and held out his hand toward the office. "After you," he said.

**********

They were in the office when Ray arrived. Sitting side by side, both behind the desk, it would have been difficult to tell who was in charge – until one looked at the door. DCI Alex Drake. Even though he was prepared, the sight took Ray off-guard.

Gene was talking, Alex listening and sometimes asking questions. Might as well leave them to it, to figure out their own way, Ray decided. But he did consider taking book on when the first big row would be.

Soon the rest of the team was in attendance. There was an air of anticipation among them, waiting to see what Alex's first day would be like. Some of the detectives were casting glances at their leaders, trying not to be obvious about it. Others simply looked, curiosity getting the better of them.

Gene nodded toward the room. "Think you should go put them out of their misery?" he asked Alex.

She followed his gaze. "Oh, for heaven's sake!" she muttered. "What do they expect? That I've turned into Captain Bligh?"

"Could be. Go talk to them."

Alex stood and walked out. Gene followed and stayed a bit behind her. _Might as well get used to walking behind,_ he thought.

"Good morning, everyone," Alex began. She cast around for something to say that wasn't trite. Something that might inspire. But this team had known her for nearly a year and a half. So she just said, "All right. I'm here. Gene bringing me up-to-date on what's going on. Ray, anything come in this morning?"

"A couple of break-ins and car thefts," he answered. "Routine stuff. The plods are out checking them."

"Fine." She paused to look at the individual faces. "You all know your jobs," she said. "Let's get to work."

A couple of the detectives started to clap, but Alex waved them down. "Thanks, but save it for when I've actually done something, eh?" Everyone laughed. She turned to go back into her office and caught the expression on Gene's face. He appeared pleased. Even proud of her. Alex wasn't sure if she should like that. The feminist in her considered it patronizing. But it was overshadowed by the part of her that was glad for the good opinion of a man she respected.

Suddenly Gene's face changed. He was glowering at someone – and Alex had no doubt who it was. She turned back to the room and saw Superintendent Wilkins walking toward her with a bouquet of flowers. Alex smiled. Time to call on the feminist within.

"DCI Drake," Wilkins said as he approached, giving her a smile meant to be disarming. "Good to have you back on duty. Just a little something to welcome you." He held out the flowers.

The man might be rather clueless, but even he could sense the change in the atmosphere of the room. All eyes were on Alex. She continued to smile. There wasn't a man in the room who would have been so stupid as to offer a female detective flowers for a promotion. A drink, yes. Flowers, no. Even when Gene stamped her bum, it was with the understanding that the men would drop trou in return. An odd sort of "you're one of us now" equality thing – not that it would ever play in the 21st century.

Alex didn't reach for the flowers. Instead she said, "I had no idea it was the custom at the Met to bring flowers to the new DCIs. How long has this been going on?"

Gene stepped forward. "You should be flattered, Drake," he said. "A big bunch of carnations? I only got posies."

Wilkins was flummoxed – and angry. He had to hear the muffled snickers in the room. But he covered. "These are to celebrate your recovery," he said. "Nothing more."

It was a few weeks late for that gesture, but Alex considered the possibility that he was telling the truth. Maybe she should give him the benefit of a doubt. "It's entirely unnecessary," she said, taking the bouquet. "But thank you. It's good to be back."

"You're welcome," Wilkins replied. "And if you'd come by my office, say about nine o'clock, we can discuss some of the open investigations."

"All right. Nine o'clock."

The Superintendent nodded and left. It was silent in the room and Alex looked around to see frowns on most of the faces – including Gene's. She sighed. Her actions were somehow suspect. Ridiculous. "As I was saying," she told them, "let's get to work."

Returning to her office, she looked around for some place to deposit the carnations. No matter what Wilkins said, it was obvious that he'd brought the flowers because she was a girl and needed girly gestures. Idiot. She tossed the flowers into the wastebasket.

Gene followed her in. "I thought for a minute that you believed Denny," he said.

Alex shrugged. "It was possible that he was telling the truth."

"But he wasn't."

"Of course, he wasn't."

Gene continued to frown at her. Could she have believed Wilkins, even for a second? That idea confounded Gene. Maybe she thought it best to play along, which infuriated him. No, it wasn't possible. This was still his Bolly. She wasn't about to cuddle up to the new superintendent.

Alex sat at the desk. "Shall we get back to work ourselves?"

Gene joined her.

**********

The meeting with Wilkins was a waste of time, as far as Alex was concerned. The man did a rehash of their previous meeting, only this time focusing more on Gene's shortcomings as a commander and how lucky CID was to have her there.

As she got up to leave, Wilkins added one more thing. "I understand, Drake, that Hunt can be a forceful personality. More than one young officer has been subjected to his bullying. I witnessed it firsthand in training. If you feel at any time you need someone to back you up, you can call on me. I know how much this new position means to you, and you don't need Hunt ruining your chances."

A chill went down Alex's spine. Wilkins's words reminded her of Summers. Someone else suggesting that Gene might not be trustworthy. But she'd learned the hard way not to let her faith in Gene be undermined.

"I must get back to CID," she said.

"You'll keep what I said in mind, Drake?"

"Oh, yes. I certainly will."

**********

For the rest of the day Alex and Gene were exceedingly polite as she continued to catch up with the current caseload. The crime rate was up, partly due to the holidays. Muggings, burglaries, and purse-snatchings were the main changes, although Alex was surprised to find that car theft was up, too. "It looks like a new gang," Gene told her. "They're stealing posh cars, then taking them apart. I've got a snout who says he thinks it's a bunch of kids. Said he'd get me some more information soon," he said.

The other detectives came and went as the afternoon wore on. Gene left Ray to follow up with them, something Ray was glad to do. They were both worried about Alex doing too much.

Around 6:00 the team began to leave for Luigi's. Alex stayed for a moment to straighten her desk. Gene came to the office door. "Drake," he said, "if there's one thing I learned in my years as a DCI, it's that paperwork can wait. Out. Now."

Alex sighed. "You're right." Pushing away from the desk, she got to her feet and put on her overcoat. She was moving so slowly that Gene was alarmed.

"Are you all right?" he asked, taking her arm.

"Just tired," she explained. "I forgot how hard it can be to just sit and study and think." She turned out the office light. "I don't suppose I can forego Luigi's tonight."

"Not really. That would just worry everyone." Gene put his arm around Alex, just to give her a shoulder to lean on. "Just a drink or two. Then you're free to go. _After_ you tell me what you and Dennis talked about."

"Just the usual rubbish," Alex replied. "A couple of new things. You're a bully. I should call on him if I need help." She leaned against him. "Thanks," she said. "I hope I can stay awake through a glass of wine."

**********

Tuesday went along very much as Monday had. Alex stayed at the station. There was another car theft, and Gene and Ray went out together on that. They returned with little more information than they'd had before.

After lunch Gene got a call from one of his snouts, Ralph Leech. Leech said he had some information about the car theft ring. Gene left the station, not bothering to tell anyone where he was going. If he had to account for every waking minute, he couldn't do his job.

Leech was a mechanic, when he could get work. It was tough keeping a job, though, when the bosses found out about his past of stealing cars. Gene tried to help him out because Leech was a reliable informant and, in an odd way, an honest man. Leech never hurt anyone, wasn't a violent man at all. But to keep his head above water, he might take a job helping out an old friend from the car stealing days.

When the reports of cars being stolen increased, Gene went to Ralph Leech. Leech said he'd keep his eyes and ears open. Then he'd called the station, saying he knew who was behind the new gang.

Gene waited for Leech at their usual meeting place. But the man didn't show. It wasn't like Ralphie to call and then not show up. After an hour, Gene left for Leech's flat. But there was no answer and the man's car was gone. Not a good sign.

**********

About 10:00 on Wednesday morning, Alex and Gene were at her desk, examining a file on a purse-snatching ring operating in the area. Ray knocked on the open door. "Ma'am, Guv, we just got a call," he said. "Hit-and-run. Looks bad. It's a kid."

Two minutes later the three of them were in the Quattro headed for the intersection where the incident took place. Gene drove in his usual manner, causing Alex to say, "We're already on the way to one hit-and-run!" He gave her a dirty look but did not slow down.

Cars were inching by as uniformed police directed traffic around the area. Other PCs were talking with witnesses. Gene parked and he, Alex, and Ray got out of the car. As they approached the constables, they could here some of the witness statements.

"… just swerved around the corner…"

"… never slowed down…"

"… poor kid went flying…"

They spoke with the uniformed sergeant in charge of the scene and were soon able to piece together what had happened. Barbara Winston was shopping with her five-year-old son. They were waiting for the light to change so they could cross the street. When they did get the signal, the little boy broke away from his mother – and was promptly hit by a car turning the corner. An ambulance had already come and gone, taking the boy and his mother to the hospital.

"Any description of the car?" Gene asked.

Sergeant Tracy said, "Most everyone says it was black or dark blue. Probably a Ford. A couple of people said it was old with some rust spots."

Alex and Gene left Ray behind to coordinate the information while they went to the hospital.

"I don't understand," Alex said, "how anyone can do that. Run down a child -- or anyone else – and not stop."

"Some people have no conscience, Bolly," Gene responded. "I've learned that over the years."

She stole a glance at Gene. So far this week they'd gotten along all right. He wasn't happy as DI. She knew that. But he was doing his job. In many ways it was as though nothing had really changed. They still worked together in very much the same way, only she was the one coordinating things.

A nurse directed them to the waiting room where they found Mrs. Winston standing at the window. She was in her 30s, with mousy brown hair framing a round face. Her gray eyes were red-rimmed and fraught with worry, and Alex's heart went out to her. "Mrs. Winston?" Alex asked as she and Gene approached.

The woman turned frightened eyes toward them. "Yes."

Alex showed her warrant card. "I'm – DCI Drake." It was still odd to hear herself say that. "This is DI Hunt," she added, indicating Gene. "We're investigating your son's accident."

"Accident?!" The woman sounded stunned. "Someone ran down my son and you call it an _accident_?!"

"I'm very sorry," Alex said, trying to convey her sympathy for the situation. "How is your son?"

Mrs. Winston out the window. "The doctors say they have to get him ready for surgery. They say Billy has internal injuries. And his leg – " Her voice broke as she tried to speak. Fresh tears came. Gene gave his handkerchief to the distraught mother. "Thank you," she said quietly, wiping her eyes. "His leg's broken. Bad. They said they'd try to save it."

"Mrs. Winston," Gene said softly, "would you like to sit down for a moment?" He motioned toward some chairs and the woman walked over to take a seat. He sat beside her. Alex noticed that Barbara seemed more comfortable with Gene than with her. As if she recognized him as an authority figure, someone who was in control. Alex was ashamed to realize that she was a bit jealous of that. This was no time for pettiness. She sat on the coffee table and faced Barbara.

"Can you tell us what happened?" Alex asked.

Barbara took a long ragged breath and let it out slowly. "We were at the corner, waiting to cross the street," she said. "There were some other people. Billy and I were on our way to get a present for my husband Gerry. It was going to be Billy's Christmas gift for his dad. He was so excited. I was holding his hand. The light changed and we stepped into the street. One step. Billy let go of my hand. He was starting to feel it made him look like a baby when I held it.

"I saw the car out of the corner of my eye. It came around the corner so fast. I heard the thud. I saw Billy get tossed into the air like a ragdoll! And the car just kept going! I ran to him but someone held me back. I was screaming. I thought he was dead. A woman was bent over him. She said she was a nurse. I was so angry that she wouldn't let me pick him up." Barbara wiped her face again. "I guess that was a good thing. That might've hurt him more."

Alex looked toward Gene. His expression was guarded, but she could see the anger in his eyes. Anger and – sorrow? Yes. Crimes involving children always got to him. She gave her attention to Mrs. Winston again.

"Do you remember anything about the car? Or the driver?"

Barbara shook her head. "Dark car. That's all I noticed. It was so fast. I was holding Billy's hand one second, and the next – " Her eyes were locked on Alex's. "Can you imagine? One second your child is safe and everything's all right, and the next, you don't know if he's going to live or die."

Alex didn't have to imagine. It had happened to her. With Molly. She held onto her emotions, trying not to cry. "Yes," she admitted. "I can imagine."

Gene looked at Alex. Her mouth was set in a tight line. The way it always was when she was trying to keep control. "Mrs. Winston," he said, drawing attention away from Alex. "Have you gotten in touch with your husband?"

'He's on his way," she said. "He had a meeting across town."

As if on cue, they heard a man's voice. "Barbara?!"

"Gerry!" Mrs. Winston was on her feet and a tall man with sandy hair hurried toward her. The couple wrapped their arms around each other.

Gene and Alex didn't stay much longer. They introduced themselves to Gerry Winston and let the couple know that they would do everything possible to find the driver.

As they got into the Quattro, Alex turned to Gene. She considered telling him about what she'd gone through with Molly that day. But something in his expression told her to let it go. What was that saying? A face like thunder? Yes. Gene was angry and upset. Best to leave him alone for now.

Gene started the engine, anxious to get away from the hospital. He'd had enough of them in the past weeks. And a kid being there? That was definitely too much.

**********

Ray filled them in on all he could glean from the various statements. "There was a kid there who knows cars," he told the detectives. "He said it was a Ford Escort, mid-70s. Dark blue. Rust in some places, like it'd been wrecked and just pounded out again and not painted. He didn't notice much about the driver but his sister did. She says a young guy, in his 20s maybe. Long dark hair, past his shoulders, and a moustache. He was headed east but that doesn't really mean anything. He could be anywhere now."

"And no CCTV," Alex sighed.

"TV?" Ray said. "You want it on TV?"

"No," she answered. "Never mind. Although that's not a bad idea. Maybe we can get the word out that way. A description of the car and driver."

"No," Gene countered. "Too vague. We'd get a thousand calls and have to sort through too many false leads."

Alex had to admit he was right. So they did things the old-fashioned, time-proven way. They canvassed the area, asking residents and shopkeepers and passers-by about the car and anything they saw. And they began cross-checking automobile registrations.

Gene himself went out, not telling Alex where he was going and not sharing much information when he got back. And that was beginning to annoy her. Gene may be accustomed to doing things on his own, and Alex respected that. At the same time, she needed him to tell her anything he found.

**********

The surgical waiting room was full. Gene saw the Winstons sitting together in one corner, a haunted expression in their eyes. There were a few other people around them, some of whom looked like Barbara, some who resembled Gerry. Billy's parents didn't notice him, so Gene went on to the nurses' station. Showing his warrant card, he asked to speak with the matron.

A woman in her 40s approached and Gene introduced himself, explaining that he was investigating the hit-and-run. "I was wondering how Billy Winston is doing," he explained.

"He's still in surgery. In addition to the internal injuries, there was a compound fracture of the left leg, so that has to be set."

"Is he going to lose that leg?"

"It's still a possibility," the matron acknowledged.

Gene nodded and thanked her for her help. He walked out of the hospital and got back into the Quattro. Reaching for his flask, he took a long draw on it before lighting up a cigarette. He'd only seen photos of Billy Winston, yet Gene had an idea of what the boy was like. He could imagine the kid pulling away from his mum, excited about Christmas and buying a present for his dad. Billy was lucky. He came from a solid home with good parents. So why did this happen? Gene usually tried not to consider that question because there was no good answer. None that satisfied him. Why were kids hurt? Why did they suffer?

Why did they get sick and die?

**********

Thursday morning brought news that Billy Winston should be all right. The surgery went well and he had come around. The boy was in pain, but the doctors were hopeful that he would recover.

Alex breathed a sigh of relief. The news seemed to lift the spirits of the detectives and make them even more determined to find the man responsible for running the child down. Gene, however, was quiet upon hearing the report, and Alex was reminded again how much he was bothered by crimes involving children.

If she was honest with herself, Alex had to admit that this case bothered her as well. She had come so close to losing Molly that day at South Bank.

Ray knocked at the door. "Ma'am? A plod thinks he's found the car." He didn't have to explain which car. There was only one that mattered right now. "It's parked on a street near here. Tim's checking the registration now."

"Fine." Alex jumped up and grabbed her coat. "Let's go take a look."

**********

They didn't need to look inside the vehicle to learn the owner's identity. Gene recognized it right away. It was Ralphie's car. For a man who had stolen expensive cars, his own was a piece of crap.

Gene looked at Alex. "The car belongs to Ralph Leech," he told her. "One of my snouts. He called me Tuesday, said he had information about the car thefts. When I went to meet him, he never showed." Gene nodded to a uniformed officer. "Open the boot."

Although every officer there was prepared for what was inside, it was still a shock to see the body. Ralph Leech lay there. His face was a mess, battered and bloodied almost beyond recognition before someone had finally put a gun to his head and blown his brains out.

"Poor sod," Ray said. "Whoever did this beat shit out of him before killing him."

"Then threw him in the boot and drove off to get rid of the body," Alex added. "And hit Billy Winston on the way."

"No telling how long it would've have taken us to find him if it hadn't been for the hit-and-run."

Gene was quiet, although his face clearly showed his fury. "Do you think this is related to the car thefts?" Alex asked him.

He nodded. "I need to see someone," he told her.

"Who?"

"A friend of Ralphie's."

**********

Hayes went flying across the room. Gene went after him, grabbing Hayes by the collar and hauling the man to his feet, ignoring the split lip the man got when he'd landed. "Leech was a friend of mine," Gene growled. All right, it was an exaggeration, but Ralph Leech had been a fairly decent man and a reliable snout. "So finding him dead in the boot of his own car makes me question the circumstances." Gene punched Hayes in the gut. Not too hard. Just hard enough to let the man know that Gene Hunt meant business.

Hayes doubled over, gasping for breath. "I don't know!" he protested. "I don't know what happened to Ralphie!"

"Now why don't I believe that?" Gene sneered. He dragged Hayes into the bathroom and lifted the toilet seat. Jimmy Hayes was someone who hated germs. This should be fun. Gene pushed the man's head to the edge of the toilet. "Oh, dear," he said. "Someone forgot to flush. People can be such pigs."

Hayes was flailing, trying to move away. "No!" he screamed. "Don't!"

Gene held firm. "Tell me!" yelled Gene. "Leech was getting in with the car theft ring! And you're part of it, too, only I couldn't depend on you being quite so honest with me. What? Are they paying you better?" He pushed Hayes's face further into the toilet. Another inch and the man's face would be underwater.

"Don't!" Hayes cried out.

"Who's behind the ring?!" Gene bellowed into his ear.

"Breen! Ronnie Breen!"

"Breen?! He's small-time! You give me the right name!"

"It _is_ Breen! He's got some kids working for him!"

So that was it. Ronnie Breen was moving up.

Gene released Hayes and the man scrambled back until he was against the opposite wall, his eyes were still full of fear. "Tell me everything," Gene said quietly.

TBC…


	7. As Real As It Gets

**Author's note: Yes, I'm posting on Christmas Day. Because I'm posting two chapters so close together, there might be a mix-up. So in case you happen to see this chapter and wonder what's going on, chapter 6, "DCI Alex Drake," sets up everything. Alex and Gene are working on their first big case with her as DCI. Originally the entire thing was to be one chapter, but y'all know how wordy I can get. Thus there are two chapters.**

**My thanks again to Amlyn for giving up part of her Christmas holidays to beta.**

**Merry Christmas!**

**Chapter 7**

**As Real As It Gets**

Alex put down her pen and carefully rubbed her eyes. She picked a tough week to come back to work. How did Gene make this look so easy? There were so many investigations open. Muggings, purse-snatchings, stolen cars, burglaries. Most of the increase in the crimes was related to Christmas. Goodwill to men. Humbug.

And they were still searching for the person who had run down Billy Winston and killed Ralph Leech. Gene had all but disappeared the past two days. He said that he was running down some leads, but Alex was getting tired of waiting for a report from him. Maybe she'd done the wrong thing, giving him so much leeway. But he had his sources and was used to doing things his own way – and with all that had been taken from him, Alex was finding it difficult to rein him in.

Her phone rang and Alex wearily answered.

"DCI Drake?" She knew the voice on the other end and suppressed a sigh. "This is Superintendent Wilkins. Would you come to my office?"

"Of course, sir. When?"

"Now!" He slammed down his receiver.

Alex hung up. Why did she get the awful feeling that this involved Gene?

**********

"Well, Drake?"

Alex straightened her shoulders and met Wilkins's stare. "Well, Superintendent?" she asked in return.

"What have you to say about Hunt's behavior?" Wilkins shot back. The man was trying for righteous anger, but there was also a glint of delight in his eyes. "Your DI beat up a man named Jimmy Hayes. Hayes needed medical attention. I thought you were going to keep Hunt in line."

"What makes you so certain that Gene was involved in this?" Alex demanded.

"Hayes said that Hunt broke into his flat, wanting some information about a mugging." Wilkins got up from behind his desk. "For a mugging investigation, Hunt beat a man into near unconsciousness."

"And you're taking Hayes's word for it?"

"Jimmy Hayes has given reliable information to various detectives over the years. If he says his assailant was Gene Hunt, I've no reason to doubt him."

"Well, I do," Alex said, her voice low and she strove to keep the anger out of it.

"If you can't control Hunt," Wilkins said, "I will find someone who can – either at this station or some other. Do you understand, Drake?"

Alex stood and lifted her chin. "Gene Hunt doesn't need controlling. He's a brilliant detective and an honest cop."

"Mark my words. If Hunt steps out of line again, there will be consequences. Make sure he knows that."

It took a great deal of effort for Alex to leave the room without giving Wilkins the uppercut he deserved.

**********

Gene hurried into CID, anxious to talk with Alex. After leaving Hayes, he'd tracked down a couple of his other snouts who verified Hayes's story. Ronnie Breen had recently moved from purse-snatching to car theft. He had some kids working for him and they were turning into quite the efficient group. Leech had been approached about taking the cars apart. The teenagers could steal them but after that, they were lost. They needed help from those who'd been at the game longer. Enter Ralph Leech and Jimmy Hayes. It was all coming together. By evening they would have in Breen in custody for the thefts -- and then they could work on the evidence for the murder of Leech and the hit-and-run of Billy Winston.

Alex wasn't at her desk when he came in, so Gene took a moment to call the hospital. He spoke with the matron and learned that Billy was awake and his parents were with him. The news was a relief to Gene. The little boy was the only truly innocent party in this whole case. His well-being meant more to Gene than anything else.

He had just hung up the phone when Alex came in. One look at her face and Gene knew something was wrong. Something big. He'd rarely seen her so angry. When Alex saw him, she stopped for a second, then nodded toward her office.

It was like being summoned to the headmaster's office. And Gene didn't like that feeling one bit. He wasn't some schoolboy. So by the time he'd followed her into the office, he was pretty angry himself.

Alex closed the door behind him. "Where have you been?" she asked quietly. She may have been controlling her voice, but her face gave her away.

"I've been working this case," he told her.

"Which case is that?"

"You know which case! Billy. And Leech."

"And what does Jimmy Hayes have to do with that?"

How did she know about Hayes? "What do you mean?" Gene asked.

Alex crossed her arms. "Wilkins just called me into his office. He said that you sent an informant named Jimmy Hayes to casualty. That he was beaten pretty badly."

"Beaten?" Gene scoffed. "I roughed him up a bit, that's all. He cut his lip. That was the extent of his injuries. If Hayes says anything else, he's lying."

"Well, that doesn't help matters!" Alex snapped. "Wilkins is insisting that I keep you in line. I had no idea what he was talking about! Why didn't you call in? Tell me what was going on? I don't like being caught off-guard that way!"

"I do things my own way!" Gene returned. "And I don't like being called in here like I'm one of the criminal class!"

"You're not in charge anymore! I am!"

Gene glared at her. "So that's what this is about. You're in command. Not me. You like being in charge and bossing me around!"

"This isn't about me!" Alex insisted. "It's about – well, yes, it is about me. But it's about you, too. It's about working together as a team. I don't care how you handle the case. Just _tell_ me first! Wilkins has his own snouts who can find out what you're up to, and apparently one of them is Hayes. You can't just go off on your own and not let me know!"

"Well, now you know how I felt when you went off on your own, never listening to me, never telling me what you were up to! How many times did I pull your scrawny arse out of the fire? Or the cold store?"

Alex huffed in annoyance. "Then you should see how important it is to tell me what's going on!"

God! How did women do that? Take a man's argument and turn it against him?! Gene turned to leave, but Alex grabbed his arm.

"What is it, Gene?" she asked gently. "Why has this case gotten under your skin so bad?"

"A little boy was run down!" Gene yelled. "My informant was murdered! And all because of some little shit named Ronnie Breen!"

"Who?"

"It's about bloody time you asked me what I found out!"

"Well, it's about bloody time you decided to share some information instead of running off on your own!" Alex shouted back at him.

They continued to glare at each other. It was a standoff. The office door opened and Ray stood in there. "Have you two finished?" he said. "Because all your yellin' isn't helpin' us find out what happened to Leech or Billy Winston."

Ray was right. Both Gene and Alex backed off. Alex took a deep breath. "All right," she said. "What has Ronnie Breen to do with this?"

Gene folded his arms. "Breen started grabbing purses when he was a kid. Eventually, he found some other kids to do it for him. He's a regular Fagin. Has a gang of kids doing all the dirty work for him. It seems that he's moved on to stealing cars. But he and his gang needed help in taking the cars apart. Breen got Jimmy Hayes involved who, in turn, pulled in Ralphie Leech. They were both old hands at the game.

"But Breen scared them. He's turned into a vicious little thug. Leech was ready to give up Breen. Breen found out and beat and killed Leech. Word is that Breen actually had his gang of thieves do the beating before he finally pulled the trigger. We already figured the rest. Breen was getting ready to dump the body when little Billy got in the way.

"I got all this from Hayes, but I checked it out with a couple of other snouts. Breen's got 'em all scared. I came in to tell you, but then you walked in breathing fire."

Alex nodded. "Do we have an address for Breen?"

"Yeah."

She got her coat. "Let's go."

They lucked out. Word had not gotten back to Ronnie Breen that the cops were on their way. Detectives and uniforms from Fenchurch East descended on the gang in the abandoned warehouse they used to keep the stolen cars. There was plenty of evidence to send Breen away for the thefts. The murder of Ralph Leech and the hit-and-run would take more forensic work, but at least Breen was in custody while that went on.

**********

Friday was Christmas Eve. Alex and Gene went to the hospital to let the Winstons know about the arrest.

"Are you sure you got the right man?" Gerry Winston asked.

"Yes. We got the right man," Gene said. "It was all tied in with a car theft ring." They gave the couple the basic information about the case. The Winstons were relieved.

"Thank you for all you've done," Barbara said.

Alex hesitated, then asked, "Would it be all right if we saw Billy?"

"Of course! We were just on our way back in."

Billy was in the children's ward. He was awed at meeting two real coppers, although he seemed to have trouble understanding how a girl could be one. "Girls can't do that!" he insisted.

Gene leaned down and whispered. "Are you joking? She's my boss. And she's tougher than me. She socked me on the chin once. Nearly knocked me out."

The child's eyes grew big as he looked from Gene to Alex. "Yeah, pull the other one," he scoffed.

"Billy!" his mother gasped.

"I'm sorry," Mr. Winston said. "He's heard me say that."

Gene just smiled and returned his attention to Billy "'Struth! She did! She's also one of the best coppers I've ever known."

"Tell you what, Billy," Alex said. "As soon as you're able, you come to Fenchurch East and we'll show you around. All right?"

"Can I, Mum?" Billy pleaded.

Mr. and Mrs. Winston agreed. Gene and Alex wished them all a happy Christmas and left to return to the station. Alex was cheered by meeting Billy, but Gene didn't seem so. He was quiet as they drove back.

"Sweet little boy," she said.

"Yeah," Gene agreed. But he said nothing else.

**********

Most of the day the detectives were busy with sorting through and tagging evidence. Alex and Gene went over everything with the prosecutors. Wilkins grudgingly offered congratulations on the successful outcome of not one but four cases. Breen was responsible for the purse-snatching ring, the car thefts, the hit-and-run, and a murder.

At three o'clock Alex came out to address the team. "I want to thank you all for doing such a fine job on this case. Of course, we all know who's most responsible for the success. The Guv." She led off the applause that followed. Gene leaned back in his chair and nodded.

"Just doing my usual outstanding bit of detective work," he said, soliciting laughter from all present.

Alex went on. "Now, because we covered for Fenchurch West last year for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, they are returning the favor this year. I've spoken with DCI Jones. He's a good man. Much better than Carnegie. They'll be taking over at four, so we can be off to Luigi's for the Christmas party!" Cheers followed. "So let's get the rest of this cleared up and be on our way!"

**********

The party was a great success. There was dancing and singing. Poor Luigi was run off his feet but still seemed to be having a good time. Since it was Christmas Eve, the party broke up earlier than their usual nights at the restaurant. Ray left even earlier than most of the others. "Driving up to Manchester," he explained. "Family. Happy Christmas, Ma'am, Guv."

Alex gave her thanks to Luigi and reminded everyone else to do the same. Gene sat at his table and she joined him. "So, Gene," she began, "what are your plans for tomorrow?"

He shrugged. "Don't usually do much for Christmas," he answered.

"Well…" Alex felt suddenly shy. "I have a turkey and all the trimmings ready for Christmas dinner. Would you like to come over? We can watch 'They Died With Their Boots On.' Or 'High Noon.'"

Gene didn't answer for a moment and Alex was certain he was about to say no.

"All right," he answered.

Alex smiled. "Good! I – I didn't have any celebration last year. It was so hard, being away from Molly," she added, glancing away from him. When he said nothing, she met his eyes again. There was a sadness there, beyond anything she'd noticed before. _He feels sorry for me,_ she thought. _His poor deranged Bolly._ She changed the subject. "Would you like to come upstairs?" she asked impulsively. "It's early. We can go ahead and get started on our movie watching."

"Yeah," he answered. "You go on. I'll be there in a while."

Alex went to her flat. She'd missed Gene's company these past couple of weeks. And as she showered and donned a jumper and leggings, Alex tried to remember her decision to keep their relationship a friendly one – and nothing more.

**********

_It's just a movie_, Gene told himself as he drove home. Even as he showered and changed into shirt, jumper, and jeans. _It can't be anything more._ Yet he couldn't help wondering if it could be.

On his way out, he grabbed the Christmas present he'd bought for Alex weeks ago. Before Operation Rose. Before the shooting.

Alex answered the door at his first knock. She looked beautiful. This was the way he liked her best. Other men might always prefer that first image he'd had of her, with the short skirt and high heels. Gene liked her in this casual clothing.

God, he was handsome. When she saw Gene dressed this way, Alex was always surprised that she could ever think of any other man as gorgeous.

She opened some wine and brought it into the living room, setting it on the coffee table. Gene was looking at her small Christmas tree and smiling. "I know," she said. "It's tiny. But I have a small living room."

Gene took a small parcel from his coat pocket. "Happy Christmas, Bolly," he said.

Her face lit up, like a kid's on Christmas morning. "Thank you! Small. Not a scarf, like you got me last year." She sat down on the sofa and shook the package, listening for any sound.

"Just open it," Gene said, taking off his jacket.

"I'm trying to figure what it is."

"If you don't open it, I will."

"All right." She tore the paper off and opened the box. Inside lay a gold chain with an anchor dangling from it. Alex couldn't speak for a moment. She had realized that Gene was her constant. The one person she could rely on. And now it was as if he was telling her that she was the same for him.

"I got it weeks ago," he said, sitting down beside her. "Before everything. You keep me from drifting. You're my anchor, Alex."

She didn't even try to stop her tears. Leaning forward, she kissed Gene. His arms went around her as he returned the kiss. The first they'd shared in two weeks.

Pulling away, Alex gave Gene the necklace. "Put it on me?" she asked, turning around. Gene slipped it around her neck and fastened the clasp. He kissed her neck, enjoying the feel of her soft skin and the silkiness of her hair.

"Thank you," she whispered, leaning back against his chest. "It's the most beautiful gift I've ever received. But I feel rather mean. All I got you was a video."

"It depends on the video," he murmured into her ear. "What is it?"

"Don't you want to wait to open it?"

"No."

"'Rio Grande.'"

"John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara. Always sparks flying when those two are together." Gene continued to nuzzle her neck.

"Mmmm….. I think we can make our own sparks," Alex sighed.

All of their resolutions were forgotten. Alex turned to face Gene. Their kisses deepened. He eased her back, enjoying the feel of her lying under him. Alex started tugging at his jumper and he paused long enough to pull it over his head and discard it.

Alex loved the sensation of his touch. The warmth of his body. The softness of his lips against hers.

Gene looked into her eyes. His beautiful Bolly. His anchor. He grasped the hem of her jumper, inching it upward.

The scar. Caused by him. It was there at her waist. A reminder of what had happened between them.

He pulled away.

Alex was startled by the abrupt changed in Gene's manner. Then she understood.

They both sat up. "Not very pretty, I know," she said.

Gene got up from the sofa. "That's not it!" he said sharply.

"Then what?"

"I shot you! I shot you, Alex. And it doesn't matter what we do or say or how we act. It will always be there between us."

Alex looked at him steadily. "I know," she said. "Maybe I've just had more time to think about it. After all, I see it everyday." She stood and took off her jumper. "Maybe it's time for you to see it, too."

Gene understood that she was right. He gazed at the scar. How could she look at it everyday and not hate him?

As if reading his mind, Alex said, "Some days I barely notice it. Some days it's all I can see. Sometimes I hate you for it. I hate that you stopped trusting me. I hate that you wouldn't listen to me. That when I told you the truth, you wouldn't' believe me. That you let Summers come between us. That you let Jenette come between us. I hate you for using Molly against me. And I hate myself for doubting you. For being desperate enough to believe that Summers could return me to my child. For not trusting you to come through for me."

The admission was like a punch in the gut for Gene. "You lied to me," he returned. "Not that day but all the days before. Keeping that whole business from me. All I ever asked was honesty but you couldn't manage that."

Alex put her jumper back on. "What was I supposed to say? How was I supposed to explain? Even as I told you how much I wanted to be back with my child, you dismissed it!"

"You think this is all about you!" Gene snapped. "That's what I have the most trouble with, Alex! That only you can understand what it is to love a child! To miss that child!" He picked up his jumper from the floor and grabbed his jacket.

_Oh, my god,_ Alex thought. She remembered that horrible argument. One of the worst they ever had. After he'd been removed from the Gil Hollis case. Alex said that Gene couldn't understand her desperation to get back to Molly because he didn't have children. _What makes you so certain I don't have children?!_

"Gene," she began, but he cut her off.

"I had a son, Alex. A little boy. Billy."

Billy.

"He was a good kid. A sweet kid." Deep, heartfelt sadness came through Gene's voice. "And he was a beautiful little boy. Blond hair, almost white, the way mine was when I was a kid. And dark eyes, like his mum, Madeleine. He was a good baby. I was never so proud."

Gene held her gaze. "He seemed all right. But then he started getting sick. Seemed to be sick all the time. Finally the doctors figured out what was wrong. Leukemia. He was diagnosed at two years old.

"Do you know what it's like? To watch your child get a little sicker each day? They tried all kinds of treatments. Sometimes he'd seem a little stronger. But that would never last. Billy got weaker and there was nothing anyone could do about it. It went on for nearly two years. I watched my son die a little every day and there was nothing his mum and I could do but hold him and tell him how much we loved him and _beg_ God for a miracle that never came.

"You said once that I'm not real. Well, I held my son while he died. I heard his last breath. I felt his last heartbeat. And that's as real as it gets, Alex. So don't tell me I don't understand how much you want to be with your child. I would do anything – _anything_ to have my son back with me."

Alex longed to hold Gene and take away some of the pain that was still inside him. "Gene," she said, moving toward him. But he walked past her and out the door.

**********

Billy.

Gene sat in his flat, whisky in hand, and thought about his son. Really thought about him. The child would quite often cross Gene's mind, but he would push the memories back. It was the only way he could keep going.

Over the past months, Gene had had a harder time keeping those thoughts and memories at bay. Alex would mention her daughter and the images of Billy would come flooding back. He knew that one day he'd tell Alex all about his child. But Gene never considered that it would come out the way it did.

The last person Gene had told was Sam. The two of them had been sitting in Gene's office in Manchester, talking over – well, everything. Gene shared more with Sam than with anyone else in his life.

Sam.

Alex.

Why didn't he stay with her? Why didn't he share his grief with her? And let her know how much he truly regretted his comments about Molly that day?

Because Gene Hunt didn't share anything with anyone.

No matter how much he wanted to. Or needed to.

He put down the whisky glass. That was why he'd told her. He needed to tell someone. He needed the comfort they could only give each other.

Gene put on his jacket again and headed out the door.

**********

Snow had begun to fall. Huge clusters of flakes swirled in the air, making Alex feel as if she was in a snow globe. It was going to be a white Christmas.

Alex walked steadily toward Gene's flat. She still wasn't sure why. She only knew that she had to talk with Gene. To find that place where they had once been. Working together with the change in ranks wasn't easy, but they were finding a way to do so. But their confrontation this night was one of the most painful times Alex had ever experienced. So much hurt on both sides. So many episodes in their lives that effected the present. Not just the shooting. Facing that was only the beginning. Their past wounds had made them the people they were now. Her parents' deaths. Learning of her father's part in that. Her mother's adultery. Pete's abandonment of Molly and herself. Molly being threatened by Layton. Layton shooting Alex and separating her from her daughter.

And Gene's own pain. An abusive father. A brother addicted to and killed by drugs. His mother's death. Sam's death. A bitter divorce. And Billy, Gene's son, dying in his father's arms. Alex could _imagine_ that pain. But she had never experienced the kind of agony that Gene and his wife Madeleine had gone through.

She turned the corner onto Gene's street when she saw him nearing the Quattro. Alex was going to call out, but she didn't need to. Gene saw her. They were still for a moment, then walked toward each other, meeting halfway. Their arms went around each other. His mouth found hers. Their kiss was tender and healing, urgent and passionate.

They went into his building and up the stairs to his flat. No words were spoken. Perhaps they were beyond words now. Alex and Gene understood each other at a deeper level than she'd ever known with anyone before.

Gene shrugged off his jacket and pushed hers off her shoulders to let it drop on the floor. They kissed again, gentle yet insistent. Alex began to undo the buttons on his shirt, leaving soft kisses along his throat and down to his chest. Gene grasped the hem of her jumper and pulled it over her head and letting it fall. This time he wasn't shocked by the scar. He placed a careful hand on it, silently acknowledging all they'd said about it a few hours earlier. Alex laid her head on his shoulder and slipped her arm around his neck.

They stood there a few seconds longer. There were no questions about what was happening between them. Gene wanted to pick her up and carry her to his bed, but he realized that he wanted her there freely.

Together they went into the bedroom and continued to undress each other. For Alex everything felt so natural and right with Gene. As if her entire adult life was always meant to lead her to this place: in his arms.

He couldn't get over how beautiful she was. From the day they'd met, Gene had wanted her. Knew he had to shag her brains out. But he'd also been absolutely certain that he never would. Now, as she lay naked beneath him, whispering his name, reaching out for him, Gene could not describe this act as just a shag. This was an act of love, for both of them.

This was desire beyond anything she had known. Alex had wanted Gene almost from the time they'd met. But she never counted on falling in love. And for the first time in her life, Alex knew the intensity of sharing that love with someone who returned it fully. Gene murmured her name, caressed her, and she had no doubt of his feelings for her as they made love.

They moved together, clinging to each other. Alex gripped his arms and cried out his name. Gene quickly followed. He continued to hold her, kissing her lips and cheeks, tasting tears that slipped from her eyes. Gently brushing them away, he met Alex's gaze.

"I don't understand," she said. "I don't cry. I _never_ cry."

**********

They lay on their sides, looking at each other. Alex laughed softly. Gene grinned and laughed, too. He traced circles on her arms, hips, and back. She let her fingers glide over his chest.

"So," Alex said, "what happens now?"

"Now?" Gene shook his head a little. "I'm past 40, Bolly. Nothing's going to happen for a while. I need time to recover."

She grinned at him. "Oh, that's all right. I'm quite satisfied."

"I know," he returned, a bit smugly.

"Oh, you do?"

"Yeah. Everything about you told me."

"I know. Bad poker face." But she smiled as she said it. "You know, this is not how I pictured our first time."

"Just want did you imagine?"

"Something along the lines of clothes ripping and buttons flying."

"I see. And where was this to take place?"

"Your office. On the desk. Or maybe my flat, on the sofa. Or on the Quattro."

"_On_ the Quattro?" Gene asked, surprised.

"Well, there's no way it could be inside. Not with our legs."

"You're right. No way we could get them wrapped around each other without doing some serious injury to ourselves – or each other. But if I'd known you wanted another venue and all, I'd've accommodated you, Bolls."

"No. This was – " Alex searched for the right word and found it. "Perfect."

"Yeah. It was."

She traced the line of his jaw with her finger, ending at the little cleft in his chin. "You have beautiful eyes," she said.

"I know."

"What is it with you? I always knew you had an ego, but really!"

"How could I not know I have beautiful eyes? I've heard it my whole life! First from my mam's friends. 'He's got such lovely eyes! Such a remarkable color. And look at his lashes. Little boys always get the lovely lashes. Wonder why that is?'"

Alex burst out laughing. "You sound just like the guys from Monty Python, when they do the housewives!"

"Well, that's how Mam's friends sounded! And then, when I went to school, the teachers even said things. 'Can't mistake that little Gene Hunt. Not with those eyes. Lovely color.' Then when I was a teenager, couldn't walk down the hallway without the girls whispering about my beautiful eyes and sighing."

"Such a hardship!"

"Well, it didn't take long before I knew how to play it up. I'd do this—" He lowered his eyelids a little and his mouth went into a familiar pout. "—and the girls would be lined up."

Alex gave him a shove. "Oh my god! You were that boy!"

"What?"

"I swear, every school has a boy like that. The boy who knows all he has to do is just look at the girls a certain way, and they'd fall at his feet. That was you!"

Gene propped himself up on one elbow. "Well, I know what girl you were."

"Oh, really?"

"You were that girl who blossomed in the right way at the right time. You're, what, 5'10"? Bet you were near that tall by the time you were 14 or 15. And there weren't many boys as tall as you. But when you'd meet one, you'd do that Lauren Bacall thing."

"What Lauren Bacall thing?"

"What she did to Bogie in 'To Have and Have Not.' You'd drop your chin down to your chest and look up at him with those big hazel eyes. Made the boy feel taller. And then, as you walked away, you'd put just enough sway to your hips to get the boys looking at that gorgeous arse, leaving a hallway full of adolescent stiffies in your wake."

Alex laughed. "All right. So we both played it up. And I repeat my question. What happens now? At work? How are we going to keep this a secret."

Gene drew her into his arms. "You want this to go on?"

"Yes. Don't you?"

"Yes. As for a secret, everyone in CID already thinks we're going at it like rabbits."

"What?!" Alex exclaimed, pulling away a bit.

"Don't fret," Gene told her. "They don't care. As long as we do our jobs. As for that, isn't it obvious? We'll get a case, we'll start working on it. We'll butt heads. I'll go off on my own. We'll yell at each other. We'll come to some kind of agreement. We'll solve the case. And then we'll come back here and shag ourselves senseless."

"That's it?"

"Or we may go to your flat."

"You've got this all figured out," Alex observed, snuggling close.

"Pretty simple really." Gene kissed her.

Alex caught a glimpse of the alarm clock. "It's after midnight, Gene. Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas, Bolly."

She felt for new chain around her neck. "Thank you for my necklace. You're my anchor, too." She kissed him softly. "I still need to give you your present."

Gene looked at her. "I like the one you've already given me," he said, running his hands over her waist and hips.

"Do you?" Alex followed his lead, enjoying the play of muscles in his arms and chest beneath her hands.

"Oh, yes. It's perfect." Gene began to ease himself on top of her. "It's beautiful. It's perfect for any occasion. And it fits like a glove."

Alex giggled. He grinned at her, his eyes sparkling.

_This man,_ she thought. _This wonderful man…_

"Gene?" she whispered.

"I know."

TBC…


	8. Period of Adjustment

**Author's note: It seems that I'm always apologizing for the lateness of a chapter. This time is no exception. The holidays, a bad cold, and family visit delayed my getting this posted. I'm very sorry for the delay. My thanks to Katie Duggan's Niece and Amlyn for being my betas and giving me some great advice.**

**One last note. I know there's some debate about the date of Molly's birthday. For the purposes of this story, I'm going with February 7th, the premiere date for Ashes to Ashes series one.**

**Chapter 8**

**Period of Adjustment**

Alex sat curled up on the sofa, cozy and warm in Gene's navy blue robe and a pair of his socks. This certainly wasn't how she'd originally envisioned Christmas morning. That involved waking up alone, taking a leisurely shower, having a light breakfast. Instead she awoke in Gene's arms. They spent some time in bed afterward, exploring each other, making love while the morning sun streamed in through the window. There _was_ a shower, but it wasn't exactly leisurely, since they were together. That memory brought a contented smile to Alex's face.

Gene cooked a breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast and even managed to find some marmalade. Afterward he insisted on Alex taking her tea to the sofa while he washed up. "Do you always spoil your guests this way?" she asked.

"Don't know," he answered. "Never have guests. Go on now."

The fact was that Gene really _didn't_ know. Since moving to London, whenever he'd been with women, it was never at his flat. So this was new to him.

His world was turned upside down in the last 24 hours. The woman he'd decided was out of reach had walked into his arms. She had come to his bed and given herself completely to him.

But there were still problems. He had scoffed at any problems on the job, yet Gene knew that he would continue to resent any interference in the way he operated. He told Alex that the team wouldn't really care if they were a couple – but some of them might. And then there was Wilkins. The git was sniffing around and if he found out…

And finally there was the part of Gene that didn't quite know how to deal with an affair like this. His feelings for Alex were almost alien to him. He'd been in love before. When he was 17, he'd fallen in love with Ellen. As "in love" as a teenager could be. She wasn't the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, but she was sweet and gentle. They dated for the last few months of school. Then she'd gone off to university while Gene went into National Service. A couple of months later, he got _the_ letter. She met some guy and it was "goodbye Gene."

Then Madeleine. Friends set them up. She was a typist and didn't seem particularly interested in marriage. So it was casual at first. But Gene soon found that he was falling for this tall, curvy, soft-eyed girl and she liked him. They didn't always get along but were sure things would be sorted after marriage. That didn't happen. The clashes in their personalities became more and more apparent. And then Billy came along. For a while they grew closer, became a family. Then their son died, and Gene and Maddy drifted apart. They pretended for a while, but infidelity on both sides finished them -- even if it did take years to face up to it.

After that he was done with love for good and all – and then another tall, curvy woman stumbled into his life. But this was really different. Alex was like no one else – and Gene's feelings for her defied easy description. He loved her – but not in the way he'd ever loved anyone else. She wasn't just beautiful and sexy. Alex was brilliant and even while they argued, Gene liked the give and take of the fight. Sometimes he even secretly acknowledged that she might have a solid counterpoint. She liked a good time, but there was a layer of sadness that he understood. And she was tough. Even those times where she was unsure of herself, Alex Drake was tougher than any woman he'd ever known. And finally last night and this morning…

The washing up was done and Gene went into the living room. Alex was tucked up in the corner of the sofa, sipping her tea, looking all the world like a kid in his robe and wearing his socks, which were several sizes too big. He could get used to seeing her in his flat. And wearing his robe. A part of his life.

A part of his life.

Gene took the photo album from the bookcase. He hadn't opened it in – actually, he couldn't remember the last time he'd looked at it. Returning to the sofa, he leafed through it, stopping about halfway. He placed the album on Alex's lap. She put down her mug of tea and examined the only photo on the page.

Billy age 3.

The little boy looked like his father – but not entirely. The hair, the shape of the face, the set of the mouth – all Gene Hunt. But the brown eyes matched those of the woman holding him. A woman with soft brown hair and sad, dark eyes. Madeleine.

Alex went through the next few pages, looking at the pictures of William James Hunt. "He _is_ a beautiful child," she said.

"The last person I told about him was Sam," Gene said.

"Do Ray and Chris know?"

"Ray does. And since Ray is more gossipy than any old woman at the beauty shop, I'm sure he's told Chris. But neither of 'em ever says anything."

Even though Gene had told her about Billy, she was still aware that it was hard for him to be this open. So she hesitated to ask any other questions about the child. Gene went on, "Maddy and I decided not to have any other kids. Too afraid." He took the photo album from Alex. On the page was a picture of his son in front of a Christmas tree. "Billy loved Christmas," he said quietly.

Alex placed her hand over Gene's and laid her head on his shoulder. Guilt crept around the edges of her conscience. Gene had lost so many people. What would happen when she returned home to 2008? _If_ she ever did. She would be one more loss for him. How much more could this strong, lonely man take?

And he would be one more loss for her.

And how much more could she take? As much as she loved her daughter, Alex now recognized how desperately lonely she'd been. And now, to find this man. Here, where she was separated from her child.

Why did this happen? Why did she have to fall in love? A love like none she'd ever known? Her feelings for Pete seemed so distant. Almost childish.

Then there was Andrew Munro, a lawyer from Edinburgh who'd worked with Evan on a case. Her "Highland fling," a friend of Alex's had called him. He was tall and had wavy red hair and clear green eyes. Alex had fallen hard. But he wanted the fun and not the responsibility of a relationship – and he certainly wasn't ready to take on a five-year-old in the bargain. Andrew returned to Scotland.

And now Gene. A man like no other. He was strong and stubborn and tender and caring. He was proud without being arrogant. Well, most of the time. He was impatient and loud, but he could be withdrawn and brooding. Alex couldn't deny that she was drawn to the sheer masculinity of him, yet it was his intelligence and vulnerability that held her. She touched the anchor pendant Gene had given her the night before. He was as surely her anchor as she was his.

And in spite of the risks she was taking, this time with him was more precious to her than she could have believed.

Gene closed the photo album and placed in carefully on the coffee table. He put his arm around Alex. "Didn't you promise me a Christmas dinner with all the trimmings?" he asked, surprising her with the change of subject.

"Yes," she answered.

"Then let's go back to your flat. I need to keep up my strength, if last night and this morning are any indication." He released her and stood, then offered her a hand up.

Alex rose and traced a finger down the front of his shirt. "In that case," she said, "I'll make sure that all your appetites are fully satisfied."

**********

The last week of the year began. Chris and Shaz returned from their honeymoon and managed not to look too starry-eyed at each other while at work. At the same time, Alex and Gene also tried not to give each other some rather sultry looks. For her part, Alex sometimes found that difficult. Memories of Christmas weekend were too fresh and more than once brought a smile to her lips and a quick glance in Gene's direction. Gene himself, being more accustomed to keeping private thoughts private, seemed to fare better – although Alex occasionally saw him looking in her direction. Once he was holding a ballpoint pen, unconsciously and repeatedly clicking it, and Alex had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing out loud. Even a person not trained in psychology would recognize that significance of that action.

As they sat at Luigi's that evening, Alex told Gene, "We need rules."

"Rules? What kind of rules?"

"For work," she said softly. "To keep our relationship from becoming public."

Smirking, Gene said, "You're taking this being the boss a little too serious, Drakey. Making up rules for everything."

Sighing, Alex replied, "You know I'm right."

He put down his glass of wine. "All right. What do you suggest?"

"Well, for starters, no touching."

"No touching." He frowned. "That's fine. But you're gonna have to stop gazing at me with those big 'come on' eyes."

"What?!" Alex yelped. Heads turned in their direction and she dropped her voice. "I do not!" she hissed.

"Yes, you do. Like a lovesick teenager."

"_You're_ the one who keeps looking at _me_!"

"Fine. We both wear sunglasses from now on."

Alex refrained from rolling her eyes. "We just need to be more aware of how we conduct ourselves," she said.

"Agreed." Gene leaned forward. "So let's start by conducting ourselves upstairs."

A smile tugged at her lips. "Just wait a bit before following me, so it doesn't look too suspicious."

**********

Of course there were other things to consider at work. Everyone was still in the process of adjusting to the new arrangement. Alex was very much aware that the team still had a tendency to turn to Gene first for answers and guidance. It was only natural. Gene had swept in three years earlier and made over the department in his image. Even though the other detectives might respect her and her new position, she still wasn't "the Guv." Sometimes that galled her.

Gene and Alex usually avoided the subject. They did indeed clash over the handling of the cases. They argued, more often than not yelling loudly enough to be heard in the hallway. In many ways, it was the same as always. Only a different name was on the office door.

Finally Alex realized that Gene was still Gene and had to do things his way. He _would_ defer to her, but only after he'd exhausted every possible avenue himself. So she gave him free rein. He ran his own cases, usually with Ray and Chris. Alex joined them most of the time, enjoying being able to work with the old team. She had considered telling Gene to take Shaz along, but decided to team up with the new WDC herself. Alex chose cases that were pretty straightforward. Some of the team called them "Cagney and Lacey."

Wilkins continued to be a thorn in her side. She compiled statistics for the clearance rate at Fenchurch East and made certain that the information was given to the Superintendent – and delivered to Central. If anyone questioned her allowing Gene so much freedom, Alex had evidence in black and white about his effectiveness.

But Wilkins wasn't satisfied with paper reports and statistics. He was now asking for daily briefings. She complained that that took time away from her main duties, but the Superintendent was adamant. So Alex did her best to make the time as boring as possible, including such information as how many boxes of staples and pushpins were used in CID and how many phone calls were made and how long each call took. The team – especially Gene -- balked at such record keeping, but Alex promised that it would not be for long. The maneuver annoyed Wilkins so much that, by the end of the week, he decided that perhaps three meetings a week would be enough. She let the team members drop the item and phone count.

While Gene admired her ingenuity in deflecting Wilkins, he also warned her to be careful. "He's not stupid. He knew what you were doing."

"Yes. But he said he wanted details. I gave him details," Alex returned. However, she did worry a bit that maybe she was pushing Wilkins's temper a bit too much.

All together, things were going about as well as could be expected on the job. And the off hours had benefits that made everything else worthwhile.

**********

Over the period of three weeks, it was the little things that really let Gene know that his life was different now. Those everyday things that said, "You're not alone anymore."

The first was the toothbrush. Alex's red toothbrush next to his blue one. And the new soapdish, holding a bar of girly, flowery-smelling soap. Then a bottle of fruity-scented shampoo. "You can't expect me to use your soap," Alex had said. "I can't walk into CID smelling like you." Gene couldn't argue with that.

Her short red robe ended up at his flat. A hairbrush. Some skimpy little undies. A suit and blouse. A tube of lipstick. Leggings and a jumper. There was now yogurt in his refrigerator. Yogurt! How did anybody eat that stuff?!

On the other hand, he knew that some of his things were disappearing from his place and showing up at Alex's. He'd gone looking for his favorite rugby shirt and remembered that Alex had worn it home on New Year's Day, along with another pair of his socks. She was always complaining that her feet were cold and borrowing a pair of socks -- and then taking them with her. And it was turnabout for the soap. Alex bought that for him along with some aftershave. He took his own toothbrush and razor over. His gray suit seemed to have found its way to her wardrobe, along with a pair of jeans. And the rugby shirt, of course.

Gene felt as if he was giving up a bit of his freedom. Strangely enough, he didn't mind all that much.

They didn't spend every night together. Having spent so much time as solitary people, they'd become rather set in their ways. But when they did have those evenings in each other's arms, Gene wondered how he could spend another night without her.

**********

Alex woke early and rolled over, watching Gene while he slept. It was the only time he seemed truly peaceful. No frowns. No glares. Right now, lying on his back, his fair hair looking even lighter against the red sheets, Gene was the most alluring sight she could imagine. Even if he was snoring a bit.

It was their fifth weekend together. Another lazy Sunday. They were becoming quite domestic, which surprised Alex. After months of dancing around each other and denying their feelings, she and Gene had jumped into an affair that was by turns exciting and comforting.

Sometimes Alex wondered if anyone in CID had figured things out. She was almost certain that Viv had, from the looks he would give them at Luigi's. Chris and Shaz were still caught up in the newness of marriage to notice. But Ray… The fact that Ray hadn't cottoned on was a mystery, though Alex suspected that perhaps Teresa had something to do with that. Shaz had mentioned that her cousin and Ray were going out, and that Teresa was happy that her son Edmund and Ray had taken to one another.

Strong winds rattled the windows a little. There was a forecast for some snow today. Perfect weather for staying indoors. And in bed.

Alex took a peek under the covers. Maybe Gene was still asleep, but part of him was awake. She grinned and trailed a hand across his chest and on down past his stomach. The soft snoring stopped and Gene opened his eyes. Quickly assessing the situation, he said, "I hope you're prepared to face the consequences of waking me up early on a Sunday morning."

"As I recall," Alex replied, "last Sunday morning the situation was reversed. Thought I'd get a bit of my own back." She pushed the covers back and moved over, straddling him. The chilly air in the flat raised goosebumps on her arms, but Gene ran his hands up and down them, warming her. Alex leaned forward, kissing him. "Rise and shine," she whispered.

Gene laughed. "Already there," he said. She giggled in return and sat up again. Gene's expression changed as he looked at her. "You're so beautiful," he said. "I love being able to watch you." He cupped her breasts. "To touch you."

Alex closed her eyes, delighting in his caress. She knew that she'd never tire of this. It was more than physical with Gene. Even more than emotional.

They were still learning new things about each other, ways to arouse, to excite. And when and where to touch and kiss. They fell into a rhythm, each matching the other's movements. Alex was soon on the edge and Gene's caresses finally sent her over. She cried out and he followed almost immediately.

Alex stretched out on top of Gene. He eased her over onto her side and faced her, stroking her back and arms, running his fingertips along the contours of her face. Alex looked into silver-blue eyes and saw in them what Gene often tried to hide.

But it was something that Alex wanted to say. Needed to say.

"I love you, Gene."

And there it was. That shield. All his defense mechanisms were suddenly there between them. Evident in his eyes and on his face. But Alex wasn't going to let that stop her.

"It's all right if you don't say it," she told him. "But I want you to know. No matter what happens, please remember this one thing. I love you. I always will."

For a moment Alex couldn't read Gene's expression. Then his eyes softened. "The words don't come easy for me, Alex. But – " He paused and took her hand. "I do love you."

She hadn't expected to hear the words. And if she never heard them again, it would be all right. Because Alex knew that Gene Hunt would never utter that phrase unless he meant it. She tucked her head under his chin and settled into his arms.

**********

As he walked toward his CID, Gene saw Alex and Shaz coming toward him. They were talking quietly, earnestly. Gene tried not to stare at Alex, but it was tough not to. Even in a suit, she was beautiful.

The previous Sunday went through his mind. He'd said it. Something that he'd rarely ever said to anyone. _I love you._ Gene told Alex that he loved her. He didn't know what surprised him more – that he said it or that he truly meant it. He wasn't caught up in the moment. He wasn't trying to soothe or reassure her. Gene Hunt loved Alex Drake.

And she loved him.

He had felt her love for him; but when he heard the words, Gene's heart seemed to skip a beat. The heart that she'd been amazed to find beating. The heart he was sure had stopped long ago. Alex loved him. And he knew that he had to tell her his own feelings.

The declaration didn't seem to change things, at least not in ways that Gene could have foreseen. The main difference was that he felt… happy. He still hated the changes on the job. Still smarted from the demotion.

But away from the job, when he was with Alex, when he held her in his arms, when he watched her sleep, when he saw her curled up on the sofa reading a book – Gene was happy.

**********

January ended. February started chilly and bleak, with overcast skies. It was Monday, February 7th. Alex lay in bed, not wanting to get up. Gene had not stayed the night and she missed him. But it was her own fault. She had a meeting at Central and wanted a good night's sleep. So she sent Gene packing, in spite of his grumbling and grousing, and promised to make it up to him.

However, instead of falling asleep early, Alex had tossed and turned half the night. It wasn't the meeting that worried her. Nothing to do with the job at all.

It was February 7th.

It was Molly's birthday.

Alex blinked away tears. It wasn't as though it was _really_ Molly's birthday. Not in this world. And in 2008, that date must have already passed. In 2008, Alex was lying in hospital, still in a coma, a few days after being shot.

Still…

February 7th was her daughter's birthday. The second one Alex had spent apart from Molly in this time. Last year, in 1982, the date had fallen on a Sunday. Alex stayed in, missing her child and longing to be back with her. This year duty called. She would rather stay in and spend the day with Molly, if only in her thoughts. But this meeting of DCIs could not be put off. Alex just hoped that she could get through the day.

**********

The day wasn't as cold as it looked. Gray skies did that. Tricked people into thinking that it was freezing outside when it's merely chilly. Still, Gene was glad that he'd put on his overcoat before leaving his flat. He'd have preferred leaving Alex's flat. It continued to annoy him a bit that she'd given him the push last night. Made for a cold, lonely evening. Amazing how fast a man could get used to a warm, willing woman beside him in bed.

He was nearly to the Quattro when he felt it. The hairs on the back of his neck stood. He was being watched. Gene had no doubt. Quickly he looked around, but the people on the street were his neighbors and none of them seemed at all interested in him. But the feeling went on. His gut told him that _someone_ was there.

Unlocking the car, Gene climbed inside. He surveyed the street again**, **but there was no one he'd label as suspicious in sight. He would have said that it was just his imagination. But Gene didn't imagine things. Not things like this. His copper instinct was kicking into high gear.

He didn't drive straight to the station. Taking a roundabout route, Gene checked for any car following him. If there was one, they were good at hiding. Parking the Quattro, he checked the street as he got out. The feeling was gone. Maybe the person following him didn't need to do so at the station. Which made Gene suspect that Wilkins the weasel might have something to do with it. Denny Wilkins would be the kind of little shit who would have Gene followed.

Alex was already gone by the time he entered CID. The DCIs meeting at Central. That was certainly one part of the job he didn't miss.

Ray waylaid Gene as soon as he walked in. "Guv! Glad you're here."

"Nice to see you, too, Ray," replied Gene. "How's Teresa?"

"Good," Ray answered automatically, then turned red. The team took turns winding him up about Teresa, going on about how he was becoming such a nancy. Most times Ray shrugged it off. Gene could see that he'd caught the sergeant off guard. Ray went on. "We've got two muggings last night, within an hour of each other. Sounds like the same man. Threatened people with a knife. Also a robbery first thing this morning at a shop. The owner got hit with a tyre iron."

"I'll take the robbery," Gene said. "You and Chris go interview the mugging victims. Take Shaz with you to hold their hands."

**********

Gene checked over the uniformed officer's report about the robbery. It was consistent with what the shop owner told him about the robber – young, probably in his late teens, early 20s. Dark hair. But Gene got one more fact from the owner. The robber seemed to have red stubble on his chin. That detail should help narrow the field.

As he exited the shop, Gene was once again hit with the feeling of being followed. He stopped and pretended to read the report again while he examined his surroundings, gazing out the corners of his eyes. There. To his right. Just at the edges of his vision. Someone was there. He knew that was the one watching him.

Gene turned. No one was there. He ran toward the spot but no one was running away. The people on the street continued at their normal pace, with only a couple seeming to be curious about the man chasing no one.

_That fucking Wilkins!!_ Gene thought. _I know he's behind this! Tosser!_

Climbing into the Quattro, Gene was fuming, ready to confront the new Superintendent. But with what? Suspicions? Gut feelings? That would get him nowhere.

The police radio crackled to life and he heard a man's voice. Didn't sound like anyone at Fenchurch East, but it could be someone new on dispatch.

"_Charlie seven five to DI Drake_."

DI? Didn't this plod know Drake was DCI now?

"_Roger that_."

Gene froze. It was Alex's voice. What the bloody hell would she be--?

"_South Bank, outside Tate Modern_."

Tate Modern?

"_Gunman has taken female hostage. Trojan units are assigned. Over."_

The radio went silent.

Where – ? What – ?

Alex was supposed to be at Central. Where the fuck was Tate Modern? Gene didn't know that, but he knew where Central was.

He reached the station in record time. Remembering where the meeting was always held, Gene took the elevator to the third floor and ran for the conference room. A WPC was clearing off the table when he arrived.

"Where's DCI Drake?" he barked.

The young officer jumped. "She's on her way out, sir."

"When?"

"Just a minute ago."

Alex would take the stairs. Damned woman always talked about getting more exercise. Gene ran for the stairwell and looked down. She was on the second floor.

"Drake!" he shouted.

Alex stopped and looked up. "Gene?"

Running to catch up with her, he pulled her aside and let others pass. As soon as they were alone, Gene asked, "Where have you been?"

"You know where I've been," she replied, her tone a mixture of annoyance and amusement. "DCIs meeting."

"No, I mean –" Gene stopped. What did he mean? "I – I thought I heard you respond to a dispatch."

Alex shook her head. "I didn't. We only got out a moment ago."

He stared at her a moment longer. For the first time in his life, Gene wondered if maybe he _had_ been imagining things. That couldn't have been Alex's voice he heard. There certainly wasn't a Tate Modern. Gallery, yes. Modern, no.

"Gene?" Now concern was in her voice. "Is there something else?"

Slowly he shook his head. "No. It must've been another name." A man and a woman came down the stairs and Gene waited until they passed. "Let's get back to the station." Gene resisted the urge to take her arm. Couldn't do that right under the noses of the gang who wanted rid of him.

Alex continued to regard him, a curious expression on her face. He knew that she'd quiz him later about what he'd heard. They went out to the Quattro and got in, but not before Gene examined the area around this carefully.

"What's got into you?" Alex asked him.

"Slept like shit," Gene said, brushing off the question. "Missed my usual bedmate. Always sleep better beside her."

"Believe me, she sleeps better beside you, too." Alex's smile was gentle but didn't reach her eyes.

It was Gene's turn to ask, "What's wrong?"

Tears formed in Alex's eyes and she turned away, looking out the window. "It's Molly birthday," she said softly.

Gene wanted to put his arms around her, but they were still at Central, with cops walking by. He started the car and pulled away. "How old is she?" he asked.

"Twelve." Alex dug some tissues out of her pocket. "I've been teary-eyed this morning. Did all right at the meeting, but when I stop to think about it…"

Molly's birthday. Gene thought back to Alex's story of what had happened on Molly's birthday. She had told him of being called to a hostage situation and that Molly had been taken by Arthur Layton. The man released Molly unharmed but came back for Alex herself.

It was an incredible story. Gene didn't believe the future part of it. He did, however, think that something like it must have happened. He just didn't know what, and he was unsure of pushing Alex for answers.

She went back to looking out the window. Neither of them said anything until he parked outside Fenchurch East.

Alex spoke again. "I left her. It was her birthday and even after what she'd been through, I just left her to go to work."

Gene took her hand. Only someone standing next to the Quattro would see.

"He asked for me, you know," Alex said.

"Who?"

"Layton. That day. He was holding some poor woman at gunpoint. When I got to South Bank, an officer told me that Layton had asked for me. I still don't know why. Or why he shot me."

Hostage situation. South Bank.

His heart pounding, Gene stared at the radio.

"Gene?"

He returned his gaze to Alex. "What?" he asked, a tad too quickly.

Clearly puzzled by his behavior, Alex squeezed his hand. "Are you all right?" She smiled a little. "Hangover? Touch of the lurgy?"

"No. Just – " He cast about for something to say. "I'm sorry you can't be with Molly today. Why don't you take the rest of the day off?"

"Thank you. Maybe I will, if Wilkins will clear it."

"Sod Wilkins!"

Alex laughed a bit. "I'd still better call – from home."

Gene felt more in control. "Feel like company tonight?" he asked. She nodded. "Good," he continued. "I'll be there." She got out of the car and walked toward Luigi's. Gene opened the door, still trying to shake off the eerie feeling that had been with him most of the day. He took another glance at the radio. It couldn't have been anything but some kind of prank.

Could it?

**TBC**


	9. You Soft, Romantic Man

**Author's Note: This chapter started out as one thing and led to something really different. I had in mind just a scene or two showing Gene and Alex celebrating Valentine's Day. But I felt guilty for neglecting other couples. So it turned into this. While there are a couple of things in this chapter to advance the plot of "Repercussions," the next chapter will get back to real drama.**

**There are three original characters in this chapter about couples. The first is Melanie James, Viv's wife. The second is Teresa Curtis, Shaz's cousin, and the third is Edmund, Teresa's son. They were introduced in chapter 5 "Some Things Are Meant To Be."**

**Thanks to Amlyn and Katie Duggan's Niece for their support and encouragement. Special thanks to Amlyn for suggesting the perfect gift for the Chris & Shaz segment. And special thanks to Katie Duggan's Niece. I had planned out something for Gene and Alex long ago, but as I wrote it, I was reminded of a something similar in chapters 35 and 36 of her beautiful Cranford story "A Conspiracy of Concern." KDN was kind enough to give me her blessing to go ahead with my idea.**

**And thanks to everyone for reviewing and alerting.**

**Chapter 9**

**You Soft, Romantic Man**

"_Oh, I tell you. Women are not the sensitive sex. That's one of the grand delusions of literature. Men are the true romanticists_." – Philip Adams, played by Cary Grant, in the movie "Indiscreet."

_Viv & Melanie…_

This was Viv James's favorite time of day. The children were in bed and he and Melanie had some time together. He loved his kids, but with three of them, moments alone with his wife seemed hard to find. Even after fifteen years of marriage, he never tired of his wife's company. She really was the most intelligent, sensible person he'd ever met – and the most beautiful woman he'd even seen.

They'd met at church nearly eighteen years ago, the church Viv grew up in. A new pastor came to lead the congregation and he had a daughter named Melanie. Half the young men in the church set their sights on her. Viv asked her once how she settled on him. "That's just it," she'd replied. "I didn't settle." Whenever he was down, Viv thought of that statement and his spirits soared.

It was Monday night, only a week before Valentine's Day. Melanie and Viv watched some television for a while. "I made reservations for Saturday night," she said out of the blue.

"For what?" Viv asked, not quite dragging his attention from the TV.

"Valentine's Day."

"That's next Monday."

"And what will we be doing then? You and I will be knackered from work. The kids'll need help with schoolwork. That's no time to celebrate. So I made us reservations for dinner and dancing on Saturday night."

Viv frowned. "I thought the man was supposed to take care of all that."

"If I left it to you," Melanie huffed, "we'd be here on Saturday night watching a video with the kids."

"Is that right?"

"Well, it's just that, with all that's happened at the station, I know you've been busy—"

Shaking his head, Viv said, "You have no faith in me. Think I'd forget."

Melanie gave him a wide smile. "You already made plans, didn't you?"

"Dinner and dancing _and_ a hotel room for the night. No having to drive home to the kids. Mum's coming over to stay with them. You and I will just go upstairs to our room –" he pulled his wife into his arms "—and fall into bed."

"Mmmm….." Melanie kissed him and put her head on his shoulder. "I love the way you think. I wonder if any of your mates know just how romantic you are."

Viv chuckled. "Why do women think they have the market on romance? When it comes down to it, a lot of men are just soppy where their women are concerned."

**********

_Chris & Shaz…_

"Absolutely not!"

Chris jumped a little at Shaz's tone. "What?!" he asked.

His wife took him by the elbow and pulled him away from the jewelry counter. "You're not to even consider it!"

"But, Shaz—"

"I swear, Chris, if I let you, you'd be buying me presents all the time!"

"Well, Valentine's Day is next Monday," he countered. "I want to get you something nice."

Shaz released Chris's elbow and put her arm around his waist. "You've already given me the most important jewelry I'll ever own," she said, looking down at her wedding and engagement rings. Steering her husband from the jewelry, they continued winding their way through the department store. "Come on. We need to find something for Mum. It's already Wednesday, and her birthday is Saturday." Dutiful husband that he was, Chris followed Shaz to the ladies' clothing and watched as she looked at some scarves.

He was feeling a little annoyed with his bride. Shaz had put them on a strict budget, almost before the end of their honeymoon. "We're doing all right," Chris had complained when she started outlining their income versus their expenses. "Why are you starting on this now?"

"I want a house," Shaz had said flatly.

"A house?!"

"Yes. I want a place we can really call our own. A place to raise our children." As she spoke, Chris was startled to see tears in Shaz's eyes. "It's something I've always dreamed of," she added softly. "Since I was a kid. My parents always rented. I decided to have a house to call my own one day. Maybe it's silly, but it's important to me."

"It's not silly," Chris said, trying to sound more confident that he was. Owning a house? That seemed impossible. But he loved Shaz and wanted to make her happy, so he was willing to go without a second glass of wine at Luigi's or an extra pack of cigarettes.

However, this insistence on no Valentine's presents. What kind of husband doesn't get his wife something for that day? Bad enough that the holiday was on a Monday this year. No way to go out and enjoy a movie and a late night under the covers and a lazy morning after – also under the covers. He and Shaz wouldn't even have Saturday night to celebrate, since they would be with the rest of the family for his mother-in-law's birthday. Not that he didn't love Shaz's mum. She was great. But why did she have to be born on February 12?

"What do you think, baby?" Shaz asked, interrupting his thoughts. She held two silk scarves. "The blue stripes or the green plaid?"

"The plaid," Chris answered, not really sure. He just liked the green one better.

Shaz nodded. "You're right. It'll go nice with the dress she wore to the wedding."

"Are you going to get it wrapped?"

She shook her head. "Costs extra. I have some plain red paper left from Christmas."

*****

Chris got out of the shower and toweled dry. As he looked in the mirror, he noticed that his hair had grown out a lot. Time for more highlights. Or should he just let it go? It would save money. He frowned at his reflection. Great. Now he was starting to think like Shaz. Of course he could put that money toward something else…

Shaz was sitting up in bed, reading. Not a romance, like she used to read. This was a book on psychology that DCI Drake had recommended. Their superior seemed to consider the young WDC as someone to be molded into a younger version of Alex Drake. She was encouraging Shaz to expand her knowledge of criminal investigation by studying psychology. Chris had a feeling that, one day, his wife would surpass him in rank. He wasn't yet sure how that made him feel.

_She's so beautiful,_ Chris thought, looking at the woman who amazingly had agreed to marry him. She didn't have to wear some skimpy little nightdress. The simple white tee shirt – his tee shirt – looked sexy on her.

He had fallen in love the moment he saw her. It had been a tough decision, moving from Manchester to London. For a while, Chris considered moving back. But then he'd seen WPC Sharon Granger. Like the song said, "Just one look. That's all it took." Not that he thought she'd even give him a first look, not to mention a second. But she did. And she loved him. That was the miracle of his life, especially after all the things that had threatened their love. Shaz had recovered from a stabbing. Thank god DCI Drake was there, or Shaz might not have survived. Then Chris's taking a backhander, betraying everyone. And Shaz had forgiven him. Then she'd even saved his life when that bent copper was about to kill him. She was the most wonderful woman. And now she was Shaz Skelton.

Shaz glanced up as her husband came from the bathroom. Her husband. When she was a girl, Shaz had dreamed of the kind of man she'd marry. He would be tall and gorgeous and rich and sweep her off her feet. She could never have foreseen that she'd be swept off her feet by a shy, sweet man from Manchester. Her Chris wasn't very tall, he had no money, and she was probably the only girl who really thought of him as gorgeous. But he was absolutely perfect for her. He treated her with respect. He thought of her first – usually. Well, he wouldn't be human if he didn't put himself first sometimes. Even when they argued, Shaz couldn't imagine herself with anyone else. She was head over heels in love with this man.

And now, as Chris walked in, wearing only boxer shorts, Shaz remembered why else she loved him. He was very sexy.

As he got into bed, Shaz put away the book. "You don't have to stop reading," Chris told her as he lay back on the pillow.

"I know," she said, giving him a sly smile.

*****

"So let me get this straight," Chris said as they walked to the back door of Fenchurch East on Thursday morning. "I'm not allowed to get you flowers, jewelry, or chocolates for Valentine's Day."

"It's just too much money," Shaz said. If she was honest with herself, she'd admit that she really did want those things. But they had to economize.

"Well, what can I get you?" Her husband was sounding just a little exasperated.

"A card would be nice," she told him. That sounded pitiful even to her.

"A card?" Chris stopped in his tracks. Shaz stopped beside him. "A card?" he repeated. "You're my wife, Shaz. It's our first Valentine's Day as married people. I want to do more than give you a card."

"Look," she replied. "I'd love a card. A sweet one. And I'm going to cook us a nice meal on Sunday. Roast beef and all the trimmings. Your mum told me how to do the gravy the way you like. We'll have a lovely, romantic dinner with candles."

"Yeah, that'll be nice," he conceded, opening the door for her.

Chris thought about Shaz's plans for their celebration – and he was still dissatisfied with the whole thing. She deserved more than just cooking all afternoon for them.

And no matter what she said, he was not going to let the day go by without doing something special for the woman he loved.

He just had to figure out what.

*****

The weekend came and went pretty quickly. The party for Shaz's mum had been nice. Chris was glad he got on so well with his in-laws. The Granger family was very much like the Skeltons. But in the end, Chris liked having these quiet Sundays when he and Shaz could sleep in – well, they stayed in bed, but not to sleep. They often went for walks. Sometimes to a movie. Sometimes they'd rent a video to watch. Chris was becoming more familiar with Audrey Hepburn films than he'd ever planned. Of course he got Shaz to watch some Humphrey Bogart, though he was not prepared to see Bogie romancing young Audrey in one video that Shaz brought home. But they both agreed that "Casablanca" was the best movie ever.

Sunday afternoon Shaz was cooking dinner. Chris offered to help, but she shooed him away. "I know you want to help, baby, but the kitchen is just too small."

He smiled. "I guess so. I'm gonna run out for a bit. Pick up some cigarettes. All right?"

"Okay."

Chris was back in less than half an hour. Shaz was setting the table as he walked in. "Hey, baby," she said, barely glancing over her shoulder. Then she stopped and looked again.

Her husband was holding a bouquet of flowers. Simple daisies. "Happy Valentine's Day, love," he said quietly.

Tears came to her eyes and Shaz didn't bother trying to hold them back. "Chris," she said, her voice tight. "They're beautiful." He looked so sweet, holding out the flowers and smiling at her.

"I know you said not to get you anything." Chris drew closer and put the bouquet in her arms. "You're my wife, Shaz. It's our first Valentine's Day as man and wife. I couldn't let it go by without giving you flowers and telling you I love you and I'm the luckiest man in the world because you love me and married me."

Shaz couldn't say anything in return. She could only kiss him and hold him close. "Thank you, Chris," she whispered. "I do love you." Then she took a step back. "And I really did want flowers and all and I'm so glad you didn't listen to me!"

"That's not all I got you." Chris took the flowers from her and laid them on the table. He then motioned her to the sofa. "Wait here." He went into the bedroom and returned with a small package. Placing it in her hand, he sat down beside her.

The package was square and just about right for holding a bracelet. Shaz looked up. "Now this you really shouldn't've done," she protested. "I was serious about the jewelry."

"Open it," Chris replied.

She tore off the wrapping paper and opened the box, expecting to see a bracelet or earrings. Instead, there was a simple keyring that had two items on it: a medallion with the letter 'S' and a blank, uncut key. Giving Chris a puzzled look, Shaz said, "I don't understand."

"I got to thinking. You're right about planning and saving for the future. And if that means going without a few things, it's all right. I really like the idea of a house. This – " he pointed to the keyring " – is for then. That's the key to our house. When we get it, we'll take this key to be cut. Oh, and the 'S' is for 'Shaz.' Or 'Skelton.' Either one."

"Oh, Chris!" Shaz threw her arms around her husband and kissed him. "You're the most wonderful man. I'm the lucky one to have you."

He returned the hug and kisses but then pulled away. "Just one thing, Love."

"What?" she asked, still a bit dreamy-eyed.

"We can splurge on things every now and then. A dinner out. A concert. Maybe a holiday?"

He had a point. "Okay, baby." Shaz looked into those lovely eyes she loved so much. Would any of their kids have one green eye and one blue? She couldn't wait to find out.

**********

_Ray & Teresa…_

Ray got home about 8:00 and immediately picked up the phone. He couldn't call Teresa from the station, not without drawing the attention of everyone in CID. By eight o'clock, Teresa would have Edmund in bed and she might have a few minutes to talk.

Life was turning out very differently than Ray Carling had ever expected. He never considered settling down. It was more fun to take what women came his way and move on if any of them wanted to get serious. And he never wanted to get involved with a woman who was tied down with a kid.

Teresa Curtis changed that. When Ray had approached her at Chris and Shaz's wedding, he was planning to be polite and ask Teresa to dance just once. But as he drew near the petite brunette, something weird happened. Her golden-brown eyes pulled him in. She was quiet and calm, in the midst of all the drinking and laughter going on at the reception. And Ray found himself enjoying the peacefulness of just sitting with her and talking.

They had discovered things in common, another surprise for him. Teresa's father was an army man, just like Ray's. They liked the same kinds of movies and TV shows. She loaned him a James Bond book and he read it in one weekend – and he didn't like reading! But she also got him to see other movies, even a couple of romances. Teresa and Ray talked about everything. He told her things he just didn't tell people. How he liked his job and was proud to be a detective. All about his family and friends and growing up an outsider most places because he was an army kid.

Teresa understood that feeling. She'd gone through many of the same problems. But they'd both had good parents and generally happy times. Teresa loved her job, as well, teaching nine-year-olds. "Perfect age," she said. "They can do more on their own and they're still willing to listen." She told him about her husband, Jim, and how he'd been a good man, always willing to help people. Jim was a delivery driver for a snack company. One winter day, ice on the road led to a terrible pileup on the highway. Jim was killed, leaving Teresa a widow. Edmund was two years old at the time.

Edmund. He was a great kid. He and Ray took to each other right away, which amazed Teresa. Shaz joked that it was because Ray was a big kid himself. But Ray liked to think that they sort of understood each other. They were both guys. They liked football and jokes. Edmund got a football for Christmas and he wanted to play -- and his mum just wasn't very good at it. Ray went right out to the yard and kicked the ball back and forth with the boy. The five-year-old was just learning and Ray liked watching the progress the kid made. Soon Ray was calling him "Eddie," even though Teresa didn't entirely approve. To tease her, Ray would call her "Teri," which she admitted was better than "Tessie," as some people tried to call her.

In just a few weeks the three of them had fallen into a routine. No more Friday nights at the pub with the lads. Instead, Ray drove across town to have dinner with Teresa and Edmund. Sometimes on Saturdays Ray would make a return trip. They might go to the park or out for hamburgers or ice cream. Or he and Eddie would watch cartoons and football matches. Then at night, after her son was in bed, Ray and Teresa would put in a tape to watch.

Six weeks into their relationship and there had been kisses, but nothing more. Ray wanted Teresa. But it just never seemed the right time. He would never have thought it possible, but he was willing to wait until Teresa let him know when she was ready. As their relationship became better known, some of the guys in CID tried to joke about Ray's sex life with the widow. A look and a softly said, "Don't talk about her like that. To me or anyone else. Understand?" and the jokes quickly stopped. The team would still wind him up, but never in ways that might question the reputation of Ray's lady friend.

At some point, and Ray was never quite certain when, he realized that he was in love. He looked forward to calling Teresa during the week. He almost lived for weekends. He started considering a future with this wonderful woman and her son. Consequently, Ray began thinking about his career. He decided to try again for a promotion to Detective Inspector. He dressed better and started putting some money aside instead of spending it at the pub. Teresa didn't want him to smoke around Eddie, so he cut back on the fags. That money went into savings, too.

The week before Valentine's Day, Ray began making plans, hoping to have a quiet evening with Teresa and without Edmund. He loved the lad, but he wanted Teresa to himself. The trouble was that Valentine's Day was on a Monday, and Teresa turned in early on weeknights. Strange that he'd never really thought much of the holiday before. Now it seemed important.

The Tuesday before, Ray called Teresa about 8:30 in the evening. She answered on the second ring. "Hello?"

"Hello, love," Ray said. "How are you tonight? How's Eddie?"

"We're both well." Ray could hear the smile in her voice and his heart skipped a beat. "How are you?" Teresa asked.

"Good. I was wondering if we're still on for Friday night."

"Why? Do you want to do something else?"

"No. Well, yeah, but not Friday. Saturday. I'd like to take you out. Some place really nice."

"All right. I'll see if Mum can take care of Edmund."

"Great. I'll make reservations for us." Ray paused for a second. "How was your day?"

They spent the next several minutes going over the good and bad of their workdays. That was one of the things Ray loved about Teresa. She never said not to tell her the bad side of policing. Some women he dated in the past didn't want to hear it. But Teresa understood.

*****

Early Friday afternoon Ray and Chris entered Fenchurch East, coming back from an interview with a man and his elderly father. There was a new group in the neighborhood, bilking old folks out of their savings. It was an old scheme. _You've won a million pounds-- and all you have to do to get it is give us a few thousand for processing_. And people fell for it. The old man had handed over 2000 pounds.

"The Guv'll want to be in on this," Ray said. "We'll have to find some way to track these men down. Takin' advantage of pensioners. No better than muggers."

"If there was some way to set up a sting," Chris added, "but I don't see how."

"Drake and the Guv will figure something."

They went into CID, finding it half empty. Drake and Hunt were out, so Ray put Chris to work writing up the report. In the meantime, Ray headed for the files, looking for any records of previous scams like their current case. Shaz came in from the kitchen. "Hey, baby," she greeted her husband.

"Hey," Chris replied. He put a form into the typewriter and started filling it in.

"Ray?" Shaz said. "Did you get your message?"

"What message?" Ray asked in return.

"From Teresa."

Going to his desk, Ray found the note. _I'm sorry. Edmund's sick. Have to call off tonight._ _I'll call later._ Ray looked at Shaz. "Did you take the message? Eddie's sick?"

"Yeah. He's got a fever. Teresa's mum got him from school."

"I need to call her," he said, picking up the phone.

"It's just gone two. Teresa's still at work."

She was right. Frustrated, Ray slammed the receiver down. Shaz looked at him for a moment, then crossed the room to sit at his desk. "You're that worried?" she asked.

"He's a little kid," answered Ray. "Bad things happen to kids."

"And kids pick up germs and get sick and then get better. Don't worry so much." Shaz paused. "You and Teresa seem to be moving right along. And Edmund's really getting attached to you. Sure you're not going too fast?"

Ray smiled. "When it's the right one? I'm not sure you _can_ go too fast."

*****

Teresa called on Friday night. "Doctor thinks he might have chicken pox," she told Ray. "I found out some other kids have it."

"How is he?" Ray asked.

"Feverish. Headache. Sore throat. But I gave him something for them. He's sleeping a bit now." She hesitated. "About tomorrow night…"

"How 'bout," Ray began, "I bring something tomorrow? Just some take away. I know you don't want to leave Eddie."

"Thank you," Teresa said, relief in her voice. "But just bring yourself. Edmund would love to see you. And so would I. You've had chicken pox, haven't you?"

"When I was six. I'll see you both tomorrow."

*****

As far as Teresa was concerned, Ray arrived in the nick of time. Edmund had broken out in spots and was already beginning to itch. She put mittens on the child's hands and he let her know how much he hated it. He wanted to scratch. He was achy and tired and fussy.

Ray arrived with a new puzzle for Edmund and flowers for Teresa. While she gave her son a bath, Ray set about making Eddie's bed with clean sheets and putting puzzles, books, and games within reach. Throughout the afternoon, Ray kept Edmund occupied or distracted or just sat with the boy. Teresa ran errands, got medicines, and bought some groceries.

Whenever they had a chance, Ray and Edmund had serious conversations. As serious as any five-year-old could have. Ray discovered that, whatever the subject, it was very important to Eddie, so Ray would give the lad his attention. Eddie would tell Ray all about school and his friends and how he thought girls were weird because they didn't like football.

Today Eddie was tired and cranky and Ray understood that. Adults could usually comprehend why they were feeling bad. Kids had a harder time with it, especially when they were itchy and told not to scratch. "I don't like this!" Eddie complained. "Why do I have to wear mittens?!"

"Because you if scratch," Ray explained, "it'll hurt more." He could tell that the boy didn't really understand that, so he told him, "You know, you're really lucky to have mittens."

Eddie frowned at him, but Ray could see that the child was curious, too. "Why?" Eddie asked.

"Mittens have thumbs. You can still pick things up."

"So?"

"So when I had chicken pox—"

"You had chicken pox?"

"When I was six. You're tougher, fighting it off at five."

"Yeah?" Eddie was starting to smile.

"Yeah. Anyway, when I had chicken pox, my mum didn't put mittens on me. She tied socks on my hands!"

"Socks?!"

"I couldn't do anything! I was like a seal with flippers." Ray slapped his hands together and barked like a seal.

Eddie collapsed in laughter. "Do it again!" he demanded.

Ray obliged causing the boy to laugh more. Then Ray added, "So you see how lucky you are to have mittens and not socks on your hands?"

"Tell me more about when you were a kid."

So Ray told a few stories while Eddie scooted down and listened. After a few minutes, the boy's dark blue eyes started closing. Just as Ray decided Eddie was asleep, the child surprised him by asking, "Are you going to marry my mum?"

It was a fair question, Ray supposed. The boy had to wonder about someone spending so much time in the Curtis home. "What would you think about that?" he asked Eddie in return.

"You'd be my dad."

"Yeah. I guess I would."

"You'd be here all the time."

"Most of the time. When I wasn't working."

Eddie smiled. "I'd like it," he said, finally drifting off to sleep.

_I'd like it, too,_ Ray thought.

When Teresa came home, the house was quiet. She found both of her men asleep. Standing in the doorway of her son's room, she watched them. Ray was sitting in the easy chair he'd brought in from the living room. His head was down, chin on his chest, as he napped.

Edmund lay face up, getting a bit of restful sleep. His hands, still in mittens, were raised over his head. His dark curls were getting long. He needed a haircut. So much like his father. Teresa's hair was straight. Jim's had been so curly. Edmund had his father's dark blue eyes, too.

Returning her gaze to Ray, Teresa felt her heart swell. He was so kind, so sweet to them. Even when they disagreed, she knew he still cared. Edmund adored him, and Ray clearly thought the world of the boy.

And how did _she_ feel? Teresa went back over the time she'd known Ray. Less than two months. Yet he was as familiar and comforting as if she'd known him for years. He made her laugh and he stirred her senses. She loved the feel of his arms around her. She loved the way his moustache tickled when he kissed her. She loved talking with him about everything, from the latest songs on "Top of the Pops" to the latest political maneuverings. She loved that he loved her son.

She was in love with Ray Carling.

*****

The evening passed with the three of them playing a game and another bath for Edmund, who balked at the idea of two baths in one day. Teresa put calamine lotion on him and fed him a bowl of soup. Ray read "Winnie-the-Pooh" to Edmund while Teresa took a shower. She came back in just as the boy was falling asleep. Kissing her son good night, Teresa followed Ray into the living room.

Ray couldn't help staring at her. She was wearing leggings and a long sweatshirt. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her face was scrubbed clean. He was sure he'd never before seen anyone so beautiful. "What would you like for dinner?" she asked.

"What's simple and fast?" he asked.

"Beans on toast. But you deserve more than that!"

"Sounds good to me."

They ate in the kitchen, chatting about the usual things. Ray looked across the table and thought about how nice it would be to see Teresa everyday, just like this. He helped with the washing up and then they went back to the living room and settled on the sofa. Ray put his arm around her.

"Thanks again for coming over today," she said. "I don't know what I would've done without you."

"I was glad to do it. Poor little kid. He's miserable. And I knew you'd need a break."

"I did." She paused. "Ray, these past few weeks. It's been just amazing having you here. Edmund is crazy about you." Another pause, then Teresa added, "So am I."

Ray felt like his world had turned upside down and then right side up again. She said she was crazy about him. "Teri," he said, "I – you – you make me feel like nobody ever has." He hesitated. "I love being here with you and Edmund."

"I love being with you, too," Teresa said.

It may not have been a great declaration of love, but it was a start.

"By the way," Ray said, "Happy Valentine's Day."

She looked up. "That's not until Monday."

"I know. But we'll be working on Monday. I was planning for us to celebrate tonight over a fancy dinner."

"And I gave you beans on toast!" she said. "I'm sorry!"

"Don't be. I liked it." He eased her away from him and got up. Finding his coat, he rummaged through the pockets and returned with a package. He sat down again. "I got you something for Valentine's Day," he said, handing the small box to her.

Teresa opened it. Inside was a thin gold bracelet. A simple chain. "Oh, Ray," she whispered. "I love it."

Taking the bracelet from the box, Ray put in on her wrist. "I'm glad. I wasn't sure what to get."

"It's perfect." Teresa leaned forward to kiss him.

Ray drew her close, returning the kiss. They cuddled on the sofa, comfortable in each other's arms. It wasn't a romantic candlelit dinner at a fancy restaurant, but Teresa was right. It was perfect.

**********

_Gene & Alex…_

It wasn't that Gene Hunt was an unromantic man. The way he figured it, any man who liked western movies and novels had to be a romantic at heart. In every movie, in every book, there was always the woman who captured the heart and soul of the hero. A woman that he could fight for and die for – but more important, a woman he wanted to live for. Gene had found that woman in his own life: Alex Drake.

For all that, there was one thing about romance Gene hated.

Valentine's Day.

As far as he was concerned, Valentine's Day was a fake, invented only for selling cards, flowers, and jewelry and for conning people into eating at some fancy nancy place with portions the size of walnuts and prices to empty his bank account.

Gene hadn't always felt that way. In the early years of his marriage, he liked buying flowers for Madeleine on the day. But cynicism had kicked in during those later years, and he'd come to resent being forced into celebrating a holiday that no longer meant anything to him.

Yet now, after he'd earned his stripes as a world-weary cynic and all-around grouch, he was looking at jewelry, ordering flowers, and trying to decide on where to take Alex for dinner. All for a holiday he'd despised for so long.

He was turning into a right poof.

Even though he told himself that all this was for Alex, Gene found that he looked forward to the holiday. He wanted to see her happy. In the days and nights after Molly's birthday, Gene and Alex were rarely apart. They'd managed to find a balance between their lives on and off duty. DCI Drake and DI Hunt were coppers who worked well together, even as they locked horns and fought over cases and procedures. Gene and Bolly were friends and lovers who also had disagreements but found comfort in each other's arms. And Alex needed that comfort. Another birthday separated from her daughter deeply upset her. Her nightmares had returned and every night Gene awoke to hear her crying in her sleep, calling for him or Molly -- or both.

At the same time, Gene's own nightmares came back. In those dreams, he usually found himself in the courtyard. Alex lay bleeding on the ground at his feet. Sometimes she was dying and he could see the light go out of her eyes. Sometimes she stood, brushed herself off, smiled, and walked away – and was joined by a young girl. Molly. He never saw the child's face, yet Gene was certain of who she was. The dreams were never exactly the same, but they always ended with Alex leaving him. He'd wake up, his heart pounding, and he'd reach out for her.

He didn't know what made his dreams return. Maybe it was hearing that strange police dispatch or the feeling that someone was following him. Gene figured that he must not talk in his sleep because Alex didn't seem aware of his nightmares.

The dispatch still bothered him. Gene asked Shaz to call around and ask about a hostage situation on February 7th. There was nothing. Finally he decided that the whole thing was either a joke or some kind of weird thing with radio signals. It could be nothing else.

Determined to forget the odd events of that day, Gene concentrated on work -- and looking after Alex.

On Thursday night they sat at their usual table at Luigi's. Alex was drinking too much and eating too little, which surprised Gene. He was usually the one guilty of that. As she poured her third glass of wine, Gene reached over and took the glass. "Eat something," he said flatly.

Alex simply took his full glass and gulped it down. After draining it, she put the empty glass in front of him. Then, as if nothing unusual had happened, she asked, "Why?"

Gene could see that his Bolly was on her way to being drunk. "You need to eat. Look, I'm sorry you're away from Molly – "

"Are you?" she sneered. He glared in return and Alex's expression changed. "I'm sorry," she said. "I know you care. It's just that sometimes I'm so certain I'll never see her again." A couple of tears slipped down her cheeks and Gene had to resist brushing them away. "I don't even have a picture of her," Alex continued, wiping away the tears. "Nothing from that time. And sometimes, I have trouble remembering her face. I don't want to forget my little girl, Gene."

She was on the verge of a crying jag. Gene leaned close. "Go on upstairs, love," he whispered. "I'll be there in a few minutes." Alex nodded and stood carefully. Looking amazingly sober, she said good night to Luigi and the members of the team still around, then headed to her flat. Gene followed about fifteen minutes later. He heard the shower running as he let himself in. Determined to get some food into Alex, he found the bread and some eggs. No bacon, so she'd have to settle for simple scrambled eggs and toast.

He had everything ready by the time Alex emerged from the steamy bathroom, her hair wrapped in the towel and her body wrapped in his blue robe. It took every bit of willpower Gene had not to cross the room, strip both from her, and carry her off to bed. Instead, he motioned her toward the kitchen and, for once, she didn't argue. Gene sat her at the table, put the plate of food and a mug of hot tea in front of her. "Eat," he ordered. "That scrawny arse of yours is getting scrawnier by the day."

Alex said nothing. She began eating and seemed to be enjoying the food more and more as she went along. In minutes she'd cleaned her plate and settled in to finish her tea. "Thank you," she said quietly. "I didn't realize how hungry I was."

Gene poured more tea for her. "You're welcome."

Wrapping both hands around the warm mug, Alex met Gene's eyes. "Have I been truly awful lately?"

He shook his head. "No. Just sad. And distracted."

"What about work? Has it affected my work?"

"Not really. Although I do miss you in the Quattro with me."

"I miss that, too. I need to get out of that office."

"Wilkins has you tied down to paperwork," Gene grumbled.

"Better me than you. I can tolerate it better. It's strange. I didn't used to mind being at a desk. Being here with you reminded me how much I like getting out and _doing_ something! Something tangible! Real! Helping people! You taught me how to do that again."

Gene was taken off guard by that statement. "What do you mean, I taught you how to help people?"

"You're so much better at dealing with them," she explained.

A short burst of laughter escaped him. "Me?!" Gene exclaimed. "You're the psychologist, not me! I know nothing about dealing with people!"

"But you do," insisted Alex. "I mean people who've been hurt. Victimized. At their lowest. In grief. You reach out to them and they know you're sincere and want to help. It's what makes you a good cop. It's what makes you a good man. You help those in need of comfort and compassion." She hesitated, then added softly, "Like me."

Alex pressed her lips together, that gesture he knew so well, the one she adopted when trying to control her emotions. But her eyes held his. Gene had never considered before that he was a source of comfort or strength to the people he tried to help. Justice, maybe, but not those softer emotions. Where Alex was concerned, yes, he wanted to be all those things for her. All that and more.

*****

That night, they both slept soundly. Friday morning, Alex woke seeming more like her usual self, and Gene didn't feel obligated to keep such a close eye on her. On the job, she pushed some paperwork aside when a report came in of a disturbance with shots fired. She followed Gene out the door. Ray and Chris were out on another case, but Gene figured that he and Alex didn't need anyone else. And he was right. The disturbance turned out to be two women fighting over a man who was married to neither of them. One of the women had brought a gun, there was a struggle over it, and it went off, not hurting anyone but scaring both of them. By the time Alex and Gene arrived, the women had called a truce and were ready to take out their anger on the man in question. Turned out the gun was his, so Gene and Alex were most interested in finding the owner. The women were arrested on a variety of charges. All in all, it was turning out to be a most intriguing case.

Letting Viv and the uniformed officers take care of the booking, Gene and Alex headed for CID. They wanted to check on records for the women and their common boyfriend. Before they got there, however, Gene pulled Alex into an unoccupied interview room.

"Do you know what Monday is, Bolls?" he asked.

Frowning in return, Alex then relaxed and smiled as she remembered. "Valentine's Day. Don't tell me you want to celebrate. I thought you hated Valentine's Day. I remember you telling me last year."

He shrugged. "A man can change his mind. I've made reservations for us. Away from the city. Little place in the country I know. Saturday night. Change of scene will do us good."

"Gene Hunt." Alex took a step closer. Her voice was gentle and low. "You soft, romantic man."

God, she was sexy and beautiful and why did she do that at work? "Careful, Bolly," he murmured. "Or next we'll be violating rule number one: no touching at work. And this room has windows."

Sighing, she stepped back again. "When do we leave?"

"Saturday, about noon. And stop looking at me that way, with those 'come on' eyes, or I won't be held responsible for my actions."

Grinning, Alex walked toward the door.

"And stop wiggling your arse at me!" Gene hissed. "How's a man supposed to work, thinking about that?!"

*****

Alex spent the night at Gene's place, then hurried out the next morning to run errands and pack for the weekend. They agreed to meet back at her flat by eleven. When Alex got home, there was a vase of irises on the coffee table. She sat down to look at them. The first time Gene had brought her irises was when she was in the hospital, recovering from the gunshot. He'd wanted to avoid roses, knowing that she'd had enough of that flower after Operation Rose. So he got something very different. From the moment she saw them, irises became Alex's favorite flowers.

Beside the vase, there was a note in Gene's handwriting on the table. _Come to the station about 11:30. It's important._

It was an odd request, considering they wanted to get on the road. She packed her bag, unsure of what exactly she'd need, since Gene was rather secretive about the whole thing. Consequently, she took a dress, heels, and jewelry as well as jeans and trainers, not knowing if they'd be taking a long walk or having dinner out or both.

Just before 11:30, Alex headed for Fenchurch East. It was only slightly less busy on a Saturday, but no one tried to waylay her. She walked into CID and found Gene talking with a young woman with red curly hair. Alex recognized her. What was going on?

"Alex," he said. "Good to see you."

The comment was impersonal, but it had to be under the circumstances. Gene continued. "You know Lily O'Hara."

Of course Alex knew Lily. The young woman was the best sketch artist the Met had. "Yes," Alex said, smiling. "It's good to see you, Lily."

"You, too, Ma'am," Lily replied.

Gene took a step forward. "Alex, I told Lily about how you'd lost some things you had in storage. That a fire had destroyed the pictures of your daughter." Startled, Alex stared at him. He went on. "And that you're not able to replace them right now. And with Molly living with relatives out of the country—" Gene gestured toward Lily. "I asked Lily if she could do a sketch of Molly for you. Until you can get new pictures."

Sudden tears clouded Alex's vision and she turned away, trying to get control of her emotions. What she really wanted to do was to throw her arms around this wonderful man and kiss him and tell him how much she loved him. But she couldn't. Not in front of Lily. Alex brushed away the tears that had escaped, just as Gene gave her his handkerchief. That gesture threatened to start fresh tears flowing, so Alex swallowed hard, dabbed at her eyes, and wiped her nose. She turned back around to face Gene and Lily.

"That's very kind of you," she said. "Thank you."

Gene smiled a bit. "Take your time. When you're done, come over to Luigi's and show me the finished product. I'll buy you both lunch."

"Thanks, Mr. Hunt," Lily answered, "but I'll be meeting my boyfriend."

"All right then. You come over, Alex."

Alex nodded. "I will."

Gene left the room and didn't look back. As if he was just someone doing a favor for a friend.

"Shall we get started?" asked Lily.

While investigating various cases, Alex had watched Lily work her magic, taking witnesses' clumsy descriptions of perpetrators and turning them into recognizable sketches. Lily worked only part time for the Met. She was a serious artist who occasionally sold some pieces, but not enough to keep her head above water. The police job helped, along with teaching art classes in schools.

Now it was Alex's turn to describe someone and see that person appear on paper. Lily asked the right questions, gently leading Alex along, getting more and more details. Alex had been afraid of losing the memory of her daughter's face. But now features came clearly to her. The shape of Molly's face, the tilt of her nose, the curve of her mouth, the texture of her hair. All came together at Lily's fingertips, with just a turn of a pencil.

Finally there was only one thing to add. "Molly has a birthmark," Alex told Lily. "Just here." She pointed to the place on Molly's left cheek. Lily added the mark and refined it under Alex's direction.

Alex sat back. It was Molly. Her daughter. Alex had seen her on the television a few times, but those moments had been fleeting. Now she could really look at her daughter for the first time in a year and a half.

Lily was speaking and it took Alex a few seconds to comprehend the young woman's comments. "Let's make a copy of this one," Lily said. "You keep the original. I'll make another, clearer one for you to frame. I can do one in color, too, if you want."

"Yes," Alex replied, almost in a daze. "I'd like that very much." They made the copy and Lily gathered her things as Alex tucked the precious sketch into a folder to take home. "How much do I owe you?" Alex asked as they walked out of CID.

"Nothing," Lily said.

"But your time and talent are valuable—"

"Mr. Hunt's already taken care of it."

Alex smiled. Naturally, Gene would do that. "I see. Thank you again, Lily."

"You're welcome. I'll send you the new copy and we'll talk about a color one."

Walking toward Luigi's, Alex held the folder carefully. She didn't bother checking the restaurant. Gene wouldn't be there. He'd be at her place.

*****

Gene waited impatiently in Alex's flat, pacing and smoking and reminding himself that sketches take time to get right. Still, it had been over an hour and a half and he was anxious to know how it went. There was a part of him that wondered if he was doing the right thing. Was he helping along some delusion of Alex's? One that she might be better forgetting? At the same time, he couldn't help putting himself in her shoes. He'd lost a child, but he had photographs of Billy. Alex was apart from her child and had nothing to hold onto. If nothing else, she'd now have a picture.

He heard the door open and close. Alex came into the living room, holding a folder. A peaceful expression was in her eyes, something Gene had rarely seen. She smiled and sat down on the sofa. He sat next to her. Alex opened the folder and laid it on the coffee table.

Molly Drake. She was everything Alex had described. A young girl with a sweet face and intelligent eyes. Eyes that seemed to look right into Gene.

"She's beautiful," he said.

Alex pursed her lips. She nodded briefly. Then her arms went around Gene, holding him tightly. She rested her head on his shoulder and began to cry. He held onto her, stroking her hair and kissing her forehead.

"Thank you," she whispered.

TBC…


	10. Moving Forward

**Author's note: Thanks again for the lovely reviews, and for the adds to Favorites and Alerts lists. They're all deeply appreciated. Also thanks to Katie Duggan's Niece for betaing. Any typos or goofs are totally my fault because I kept tweaking even after she okayed it. Can't help it. I'm bad about doing that. **

**Chapter 10**

**Moving Forward**

Alex stood and walked around her desk, making sure that she could look Gene in the eye. "That's not the way we're supposed to handle it!" she said, no longer trying to keep the frustration out of her voice.

"I swear to God, I don't know what's happened to you, Drake!" Gene snapped. "There was a time you'd be the first one out the door on the case like this!"

"It's a matter for Fraud, not for us!"

"Fraud?! What good are _they_ gonna do?! These arseholes are stealing from people! It's out and out theft!"

"It's protocol, Gene!"

"Sod protocol! _My_ patch, _my_ case!"

The detectives of Fenchurch East pretended not to listen to the fight going on in DCI Drake's office. But they were hanging on every word. Even with the door closed, the voices were loud and clear. Ray entered CID and stopped short upon hearing the yelling. "Mum and Dad at it again?" he asked, getting some chuckles in answer.

"It's about that con we got reported last week," Chris told him. "The old man and his son. I gave our report to the Guv. He wanted to jump on an investigation right away. Ma'am doesn't agree. Says it's Fraud's case."

Alex took a deep breath, trying to control her temper. However, that didn't work too well. "Has it occurred to you that Fraud might already be working on this case?" she hissed. "These men couldn't have gone undetected. When con men start this contest scheme, word gets around. Someone might have reported it directly to the Fraud Squad."

Silver-blue eyes narrowed. "I repeat," Gene growled. "My patch, my case! I'm going to track down these toerags and drag them in here by their bollocks!"

Ray shook his head and muttered to Chris and Shaz, "Why don't they just shag and get it out of their systems?"

The couple looked at each other and smiled. "What makes you think they're not?" Shaz returned.

Frowning, Ray glanced back and forth between the DCI office door and Chris and Shaz. Then he smiled.

Taking a step to close the space between herself and Gene, Alex set her jaw and met his eyes steadily. Gene knew that expression. She was digging in her heels and it would take God's own hand to budge her. "And I am saying," she shot back, "that you're not to do anything until I check with Fraud. If they are investigating on _our_ patch, we'd better tread lightly. I seriously doubt they'd liked any carefully laid plans to be disrupted by a DI who couldn't keep his pride in his pocket!"

Silence fell between them. They spent another minute daring each other to blink. Finally Gene turned, threw open the door, and stormed out of the office.

Alex watched him go, tempted to tell him to come back. There was no telling what he might do in his state of mind. Although, come to think of it, she wasn't entirely sure what his state of mind _was_. How could they be so close off the job and worlds apart on it? Especially after their lovely weekend in the country?

But Gene was right. In the past, she would have jumped on the case. Now she was cautious. She didn't want to cross the wrong people; and at present, that was just about anyone at Central. Alex was still afraid that Wilkins and his friends would try to find a reason to split up the team.

As much as she was tempted to sit down for a moment, Alex knew she had to move. "Ray!" she called.

The sergeant came in. "Ma'am?"

"Gather everything you have on that con game going on. We're going to pay a call on the Fraud Squad."

**********

It was early for a trip to the pub, but Gene was more than ready. He sat in the corner, smoking and drinking a glass of bitter. Why was he arguing with Alex over this case? Was it only because of his pride? She had a point. Fraud Squad might already be working on it. If he charged in without checking, there was a chance of fucking up an investigation. And when it came down to it, Gene Hunt would rather swallow his pride than let some bastard get away with crime on his patch.

And there was still the worry that Central would decide that Fenchurch East CID was better off scattered to the winds.

Finishing off his pint and stubbing out his cigarette, Gene left the pub. Maybe he couldn't start asking his snouts for information, but he could speak to the known victims of the scam. He had no trouble remembering the name and address of the old man. Might as well head over there now.

Gene had walked no more than a block when he felt the now-familiar sense of being followed. He turned quickly, startling a couple of young women who had been only a few yards behind him. They stared at him, then quickly crossed the street. There was no one behind them. This was getting old. Since when was the Manc Lion paranoid?

Yet even as he turned back around to continue down the street, the feeling came over him again. He pushed it aside. If Wilkins was having him followed, the bastard would only find a man doing his job.

**********

Dennis Wilkins paced in his office, eyeing the DC standing before him. "You're absolutely certain there's something going on between them?" Wilkins asked.

"As certain as I can be," DC Ben Owen replied. "Usually he stays at Drake's flat. Sometimes she's at Hunt's."

"That doesn't necessarily mean there's a sexual relationship going on," Wilkins muttered.

Owen snorted. "Speak for yourself, sir. But if I'm staying overnight in a woman's flat, it's not to play tiddlywinks."

Wilkins halted in his tracks. "You'll watch your tone, Owen," he hissed.

"Yes, sir," the DC answered, a bit sullenly.

Whatever possessed Wilkins to choose Owen for this assignment, he'd never know. The constable had been his sergeant at one time before being demoted for being rough – and that was putting it mildly -- while arresting a young male prostitute. But Owen was skilled at blending in with a crowd and following a target undetected. And Wilkins was determined to learn the extent of the relationship between Hunt and Drake.

Personally, he had no doubt that the two were having an affair. But they were careful not to exhibit any intimacy on the job. The only mark against them was that Drake seemed to show favoritism toward Hunt, allowing him to conduct investigations unsupervised. Fenchurch East CID had an excellent record for closing cases.

"Keep watching," Wilkins told Owen. "Let me know if you have anything new."

"How much longer?"

"Another week."

Owen shook his head. "Superintendent, I think you're wasting your time and mine. So what if Hunt is shagging her? He used to be her boss. No woman ever got anywhere without getting on her back first. Who cares?"

"Just do your job!" Wilkins spat.

Shrugging, the DC left the office.

Wilkins went behind his desk and kicked the chair before sitting down. Hunt was a thorn in his side. By rights, men like Hunt should be working in a factory somewhere or pumping petrol and repairing cars. They thought a couple of years of national service made them qualified to lead, when anyone with breeding and intelligence knew otherwise. Men like Hunt bullied and blasted their way in while those born to rule were pushed aside in this day and age. Already the working class was undermining the genetic pool – thanks to women like Alex Drake who, for some unfathomable reason, thought men like Hunt attractive.

If only there was a way to get rid of both of them in one fell swoop.

**********

The commanders of the Fraud Squad were happy to get information about the new con in the Fenchurch East area. However, they were conducting several investigations and couldn't spare the manpower to chase down what was clearly a small-time operation. So they told Alex that she and her team were welcome to go after them. Alex and Ray left Central and headed back to their own station.

"We'll let the Guv know what we found out," Alex told Ray. "Then we'll come up with a way to trap them – if they haven't already moved on."

"I doubt they have," Ray said. "Not while they can still get some money out of old Mr. Pierson." It was quiet for a moment, then Ray cleared his throat. "Uh, Ma'am, there's something I want to talk with you about."

Alex was a little surprised by the sergeant's tone. He sounded quite serious. "Yes?"

"I, uh, it's just that, well…" Ray fumbled for words before finally blurting out, "I've been thinking about the future."

"The future?" Alex echoed.

"Yeah. You know I've been seeing Teresa, Shaz's cousin."

"Yes."

"Well, things are going nice."

Alex stole a glance at Ray, expecting to see him blushing, but he wasn't. He was smiling. "And?" she prodded.

"I've been thinking about a future with Teresa and Eddie," Ray continued. "And I don't want to be a sergeant forever anyway. So I'm putting in for a promotion to DI."

"Good!" Alex said. "You deserve it."

He looked at her in amazement. "You think so?"

"Absolutely. I've told you before, Ray, that I think you're a brilliant detective. I'll be happy to add my recommendation."

They arrived at Fenchurch East and Ray parked the car. As he turned off the car, he met Alex's eyes again. "There's one thing, though. With the Guv being DI now, if a promotion does come through, it might mean moving to another station. It'd be great if it was near where Teresa and Eddie live, but even if it's not…" His voice trailed off.

CID without Ray. Alex could hardly imagine it.

Ray went on. "I don't want you to think I'm doing this because of you. You're a good DCI. I'm doing it because – because I want something more. I want to offer something more to Teresa."

Alex nodded. "I understand. And I'll support you completely – although Fenchurch East won't be the same without you, Ray."

"Well, I'm not gone yet," he chuckled. "And I'm glad you said you'd support me, but I'm more worried about the Guv."

"Why?" Alex asked, puzzled. "I think he'd back you as well."

Ray fumbled for his cigarettes. Lighting up, he rolled down the car window, blowing the smoke outside. "I've known the Guv for near twenty years. Since I was a kid. He kept me out of some trouble back then. I'd got in with a bad bunch. We'd miss school. Get into fights. We got pulled in for vandalism one night. Then a couple of the gang stole a car. I was questioned what I knew about it, which was nothing. The Guv, he was a DC back then, he pulled me aside, told me I had a decision to make. Go with them or make something of my life. He said I could even be a good copper if I put my mind to it. He knew my father was posted overseas at the time. Lit into me for worrying my mother. Made me ashamed. But if it'd hadn't been for the Guv, I might've kept going to the bad. So I've always felt like I owed him. I've been with him since I made detective. I came to London because he did, and I couldn't imagine being a cop without the Guv. But now – now I feel like I can. I just don't know how he'll take it."

Alex shook her head. "I'm sure Gene will be happy for you and give you his full support." But she couldn't help wondering, _How _will_ Gene take it?_ _Surely he can't begrudge Ray a chance at advancement and happiness with Teresa…_

**********

Gene leaned back in his chair, boot-clad feet on his desk, awaiting the return of his DCI and DS. Shaz took one look at him and said, "Pardon me, but you've still got canary feathers on your whiskers." At which point his smile broadened.

"Shaz, my girl, there are times I really do enjoy my job," he said.

"Let me guess. You're a few steps ahead of everyone else on the new con artists in town."

In reply, Gene merely said, "I'm thinking a nice glass of scotch will set this day off just right. I'll have to see if Luigi has something decent behind the bar tonight. First, Drake and Raymundo have to get back."

As if on cue, Alex and Ray walked through the CID double doors. "'Bout time you two showed up," Gene declared, making them both turn in his direction. "What did the Fraud Squad say?"

"We're good to go," Alex answered. It was apparent that she was confused by Gene's good mood. "They've not heard of any new con going on in the area. And since they're overwhelmed right now—"

"When are you going to learn, Drake?" Gene crossed his arms and smirked at her. "The Gene Genie has resources that would confound the cops at Central."

"What do you know?"

"I talked with the elder Mr. Pierson. Got a more detailed description of him. When Pierson said the man who contacted him seemed like a sweet kid, it sounded familiar." Standing up, Gene opened a folder. "Our so-called new con artist is none other than Barnaby Higgins. Pierson identified him from a group of photos." He gave the folder to Alex.

"Piggy Higgy?!" Ray asked in amazement. "But Pierson didn't say the man was fat."

"That's because Barnaby's not so piggy anymore," Gene told him. "Those two years in prison got him in shape. Less fat, more muscle."

"Excuse me," Alex interrupted. "Piggy Higgy?"

Ray spoke first. "One of the first arrests we made here in London. He was, what? Twenty-four, then?"

Chris stepped forward. "Just twenty-five," he corrected. "One of the best change raising artists around. Been at it for years. Started when he was a kid. Saw somebody do it and tried it himself."

"That doesn't exactly sound like a case for CID," Alex said.

"He also stole credit card numbers," Gene told her. "Chubby, sweet-faced kid. That's how he was always described. Shop assistants just didn't suspect him. He went all over the city with that con. We were new to the neighborhood so he didn't know us. We put Chris behind a counter. Piggy came in, did his routine—"

"It really is confusing when somebody does that," Chris said. "You know. 'Can you change a twenty? No, wait, got too many small bills. Can you give me a ten?' If Ray hadn't been there, I might've missed it."

"You _did_ miss it," Ray countered.

"—and we had him in custody," Gene said, finishing his account of the arrest. "First week we were here."

"It was a nice start in London," continued Ray.

"Piggy went in for two years. And, I'm sad to say, he seems to have found a mentor behind bars. Sounds like he's refined his technique and moved on to more complicated scams." Gene sat down and propped his feet up again. "I've got some calls out to see who was serving same time as Piggy. He's been coached. And maybe we can get to that person." He looked at Alex, relishing the look of astonishment on her face. "And, yes, we'll make certain to get any information to Fraud Squad. In the meantime, I've asked a couple of my most trusted snouts to keep an eye out for Higgy."

"Softly, softly," Alex said.

"Catchee Piggy," Gene finished. "Don't worry. My snouts will be careful. But Mr. Pierson told me he's been approached about another 'processing fee' before he can collect his million pounds. It'll be the day after tomorrow – and once again, we'll be waiting for Piggy. We'll have to put you or Shaz in the room for that one, B – Drake. He knows us now."

Alex smiled at him. Sometimes Gene really did love his job.

**********

Gene swirled the wine in his glass and looked across the table at Alex. He'd ordered the good stuff at Luigi's in anticipation of nabbing Piggy and his accomplice. However, he'd not anticipated Alex's news about Ray. At least not the part about willing to take a transfer.

"Well?" Alex asked. When Gene didn't answer, she prodded a bit. "What do you think?"

"'Bout time Ray settled down. I'd like to meet Teresa. It'd take quite a woman to lasso him."

"He seems very happy." She hesitated. "Ray told me that he's known you since he was a teenager. That you kept him from going to the bad."

Shrugging, Gene said, "He just needed some direction."

"That's not how he remembers it. He also credits you with his decision to become a police officer. He feels that he owes you." Again Gene shrugged. "You two have known each other for twenty years," Alex continued. "You've know Chris even longer. Shaz said you knew him when he was a very small boy."

Finally a smile came to Gene's face. "Yeah. He'd get into fights protecting other kids. Never for himself."

Alex returned the smile. "But there's one thing. Ray's worried about you."

"Me?!"

"Gene, he and Chris have been with you since they made detective. They followed you here from Manchester. Ray is worried about how you'll take his leaving."

Pouring more wine for each of them, Gene raised his glass. "A toast, Bolly."

Alex picked up her glass. "To…?"

"To the children leaving the nest."

He took a large drink and she followed suit. But Alex then asked, "You really are all right with it?"

"Ray's ready. He's been ready for Inspector for a while now. He just needed to see that he was. Mind you. I'll miss him. But maybe it is time for him to take his career in a new direction. And his wanting to get away from me will only be in his favor at Central."

"He's not trying to get away from you!" Alex insisted.

"If he's smart, that's the way he'll play it," Gene said flatly. "It'll move him up in the queue." He paused. "We all have to move forward. As for owing me something, like you said, Ray's been with me since he made DC. He doesn't owe me anything." He leaned toward her and lowered his voice. "You, on the other hand, owe me a lot."

In return, Alex looked at him with her best, most innocent face. "I do?"

"Yes. For doing such brilliant work on the case today."

"How will I repay you?"

"How fast can you get upstairs?"

**********

Everything went remarkably well on Wednesday. Higgins called Mr. Pierson at the last minute, changing their chosen meeting place to an office. "Smart move," Gene said. "Makes it look for official."

"We'll have to be careful going into the building," Alex instructed. "Higgins knows you all on sight."

The meeting was for 1:00. Alex and Gene went to the building at noon. Ray and Chris arrived about 12:30. Mr. Pierson arrived at 12:55, accompanied by Shaz, posing as his granddaughter. By 1:30, Piggy Higgins and his accomplice Howie Simmons were under arrest and they were on their way back to the station.

**********

The woman found her way to Fenchurch East police station and stood outside, taking a couple of deep breaths and trying to get up the courage to walk inside. If she wasn't so desperate, she knew she could never do it.

But she had no choice. No one seemed to be doing anything to help her. In spite of everything in the past, she was sure that Gene would do something.

Fenchurch East. That's where he was DCI. She climbed the steps, her heart pounding with anticipation and worry. Upon entering the building, she made her way to the front desk. A tall black man with a moustache stood there. He was a sergeant. That was good. The skippers

always knew what was going on in their stations.

Her anxiety must have been evident because the sergeant spoke before she had a chance to say anything. "May I help you?" he asked.

"Yes." She coughed a bit and swallowed hard, trying to control the slight tremor in her voice. "Could you direct me to DCI Gene Hunt?"

"Yes, but he's not DCI now."

That made sense. Of course he'd be a superintendent by this time.

The sergeant continued. "It's DI Hunt."

"DI?" she echoed, stunned by that news. How in the world could that have happened? Gene demoted?

"That's right." The sergeant seemed a little embarrassed at having related that information. "I believe he and DCI Drake are out right now, but—"

A commotion at the front doors drew their attention. She turned to see Gene and a tall brunette woman in a dark gray suit pushing a handcuffed man through the doors. They were followed by another group. She recognized two of them. Ray Carling and Chris Skelton. They also had a handcuffed man in tow. A shorter brunette woman brought up the rear.

"When will you learn?" Gene yelled at the cuffed man. "You don't try your little confidence games on my patch!"

The tall woman was also berating the man, though not so loudly as Gene. "You know, these retired folks have a hard enough time without you lot trying to steal their savings. I wouldn't mind trussing you up and serving you at the nearest senior center!"

The three were only a few steps inside when Gene stopped in his tracks, causing the others to stop as well. No one moved for a moment, watching as the DI and the woman stared at each other. Finally the woman spoke. "Hello, Gene."

Those eyes. She remembered how cold those blue eyes could be. They narrowed now as he looked at her. "Hello, Madeleine," he returned quietly. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

TBC…


	11. Madeleine

**Author's note: Many thanks once again to Amlyn and Katie Duggan's Niece for their encouragement and feedback and suggestions. And many thanks to those who are reading and sending reviews and clicking boxes for favorites and alerts. Y'all keep me going.**

**Chapter 11**

**Madeleine**

Madeleine. Alex recognized her right away. Like everyone else, she found herself looking back and forth between Gene and his ex.

"Flamin' Nora!" Ray muttered. Alex caught his eye and nodded toward the booking area. Shaz gave Chris a questioning look, but he just shook his head in reply. Ray and Chris took Simmons and headed in the direction of booking and Shaz followed. Alex didn't need to give Viv instructions. He'd already assessed the situation and sent over a couple of PCs to take Higgins. As they passed Madeleine, Chris gave the woman just a hint of a friendly smile. Madeleine hesitantly returned it. The exchange surprised Alex.

Gene kept his eyes on Madeleine. His ex raised her chin and stared back. For a moment, Alex felt a twinge of annoyance with the woman. What _was_ the ex-Mrs. Hunt doing in London? Besides pissing off Gene?

Alex mentally shook herself. It really wasn't her business. She took a small step back, ready to leave. Then Gene glanced in her direction, silently asking her to stay. That was all she needed.

Viv moved away some. He may not know for certain who the woman was, but he could feel the tension between her and Gene.

Gene took a few steps toward Madeleine. She did likewise. "How are you?" she asked.

"How am I? I'm wanting to know what you're doing here." Alex could hear the strain in Gene's voice as he tried to keep it steady.

Madeleine paused and looked down. To Alex it seemed that the woman was trying to compose herself. Alex had been curious about her and tried to imagine what she would be like. Madeleine was quite pretty. Her soft brown hair was sprinkled with grey. She was tall, about Alex's own height, but somewhat heavier, though not really overweight. She was dressed in brown slacks, a red jumper over a white shirt, and brown tweed jacket. All in all, she was a very lovely woman.

"I said –" Gene started again.

"I heard you!" Madeleine interrupted. "I – I need help," she added softly.

"Oh? With what?"

"It's – could we talk privately somewhere?"

"Tell me," Gene said flatly.

Madeleine turned red. "It's Zoe," she said. "She's missing." Tears were forming in the brown eyes. "And no one seems interested in helping!" she added, desperation in her voice.

Gene took a step back, shaking his head just a little. "And you expect _me_ to?" he asked incredulously. He turned to walk away.

"Gene! Please!" Madeleine cried. "I don't know where else to turn!"

He looked around and pointed at Alex. "Talk to _her_!" he barked. "She'll be glad to help! Besides, I'm not DCI anymore. _She_ is!" He continued on down the hallway. Startled, Alex watched him walk away, leaving her to deal with his ex.

"Bastard!" Madeleine hissed.

Although Alex herself had sometimes expressed the same sentiment, she was miffed to hear the other woman say it. Taking a deep breath to get her temper under control, she stepped forward. Madeleine faced her. "I'm DCI Alex Drake," Alex said, introducing herself. "Can you tell me exactly what happened?"

Madeleine didn't answer right away. She took a moment to find some tissues in her purse and dry her eyes. "He was telling the truth?" she asked. "You're the DCI?"

"That's right."

"And I suppose you know who I am."

"Yes," Alex said hesitantly. "Madeleine Hunt."

"Brown. I went back to my maiden name."

"All right. Let's go to my office and talk."

**********

Gene stormed through the station and straight out the back door. A group of PCs and WPCs were standing outside, smoking and chatting. They scattered as Gene came down the steps, everything about his body language and facial expression telling them to get out of the way. He strode to the far side of the back steps where no one else was standing, dug out a pack of cigarettes, and lit up.

What was she doing here?! Seeing her was like a punch in the gut. He was thrown back five years and all the anger, all the pain came flooding back. And all the memories. Happy times with Madeleine, when they were young and starting a life together. And then Billy, their beautiful little boy. For a while they were a family. When Billy died, the marriage fell apart, bit by bit, finally crumbling to dust.

And now, Madeleine walks into his station, asking for his help in finding Zoe! Thinking that he'd drop everything and go looking!

He considered and rejected a trip to the pub. Instead, he pulled out his flask and took a long drink from it. And wondered how long it would be before Alex came looking for him.

**********

Madeleine stopped as she and Alex approached CID. "Will Ray and Chris be in there?" she asked.

"They should be in booking with the men we just arrested," Alex assured her. "We'll go to my office. It'll be all right." They entered and Alex motioned toward the office, leading the way. Once inside the office, Alex pulled a chair to the front of the desk and asked Madeleine to sit down. Excusing herself for a moment, Alex went to the kitchen and came back with a glass of water and a box of tissues. She'd been through enough of these interviews to know that tears would be a part of this one.

Sitting at her desk, Alex met Madeleine's eyes and smiled a little. The woman returned the smile, though plainly as a matter of form rather than anything heartfelt. This was a moment Alex had never anticipated. Gene's ex. Even though Alex had seen pictures of her, Madeleine's demeanor took Alex off guard. The woman seemed to be unassuming and unsure of herself. Yet Alex understood that to be married to Gene Hunt for nearly thirteen years – and then be the one to end it -- took a strong person. And it took a strong person to survive the death of a child.

Gene had told Alex that Madeleine left him for another woman. From his reaction, the missing person Zoe must be that other woman. So that might be a good place to start.

"I believe," Alex began, "I heard you mention something about a missing person. Zoe. Is that right?"

Madeleine nodded. Then she raised her chin and steadily met Alex's gaze. "I'll tell you right up front that Zoe is – " She faltered for just a second before going on. "Zoe and I are a couple. We live together. There. Now you can give me the push if you want and I'll keep trying—"

Alex held up a hand. "Miss Brown, I've no intention sending you off on your own. And I, in no way, disapprove of your relationship with Zoe. If she's missing—"

"She is!"

"—then I will do everything I can to help you find her."

For a moment Madeleine looked intently into Alex's eyes, then nodded. "I believe you," she said.

Alex smiled again. "Let's get first things settled. Zoe's full name?"

"Zoe Abigail Bennett."

"How old is she?"

"She's just turned 32. On January 22." Madeleine paused. "There's ten years difference in our ages. Some people might think that a lot, but it doesn't seem to matter to us."

There was ten years difference between Alex and Gene. Alex had never considered that as "a lot." "How long has she been missing?"

"She was supposed to be home Sunday night. In plenty of time for Valentine's Day on Monday." Again there was a pause and fresh tears came to Madeleine's dark eyes. She reached for the tissues. "Our anniversary, actually."

"And where is home?" Alex asked.

The question surprised Madeleine. "I thought you'd know. Since you know I was married to Gene. Zoe and I still live in Manchester. We have a little café. Serve breakfast and lunch. Nothing fancy. Just good basic food. But we're always busy."

"Was Zoe here in London on her own?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Madeleine blushed and looked away. "A family wedding. Zoe's cousin Belinda got married on Saturday. I was not invited. The parents of the bride made it very clear I wasn't welcome." She took a sip of water.

Alex could feel the woman's pain and embarrassment at the deliberate snub by Zoe's family. "I'm very sorry," she told Madeleine. "That must have hurt very much."

At first there was no reply. Then a small shrug and finally a nod. "You think you'll get used to it," Madeleine said. "But every now and then-- Especially since Belinda and Zoe are so close. Henry, Belinda's fiancé – husband – he's nice, too. Zoe and I have had dinner with them. But Belinda's parents. They barely acknowledge Zoe, much less me. Hurts Zoe's parents, too. Zoe's father and Belinda's are first cousins. Zoe's parents, they're wonderful. Treat me like another daughter."

Alex leaned forward. "Where are they? Do they know that Zoe's missing?"

"They're in America," said Madeleine. "In Florida. I called, but they're not answering. They probably went to Disney World. They love it there. They're rather posh. Go to Florida for about a month every winter." Suddenly Madeleine stood. "We're wasting time!" she exclaimed. "It's Wednesday! Zoe's been missing since Sunday! We've got to look for her! All you're doing is asking stupid questions!"

"These questions will help us," Alex explained gently. "I can only imagine what you've been through these past few days. But now you have help. Please. Sit down and we'll go over everything that's occurred so far."

**********

The booking of Higgins and Simmons was done, and the con men were in separate cells. Ray, Chris, and Shaz were on their way back to CID, talking softly as they went.

"The Guv's ex?" Shaz asked.

"Yeah, that was her," answered Chris.

"Didn't you tell me that she—" Shaz paused as two PCs passed them in the hallway and waited until the men were out of earshot. "Didn't you say she left him for another woman?"

"Yeah."

Ray took a drag on his cigarette. "What's she turning up here for?" he asked. "Bad enough she dragged him down when she left. Think she wants him back?"

Shaz made an impatient sound. "I doubt that."

"C'mon! You can't tell me a woman doesn't miss what a man can give her! There's only so much that appliances and appendages can do!"

"You're disgusting sometimes!" Shaz hissed. "What goes on between two people who love each other is more than that!"

"Love?!" Ray scoffed. "You can't tell me that what goes on between two women or two men is the same as a man and woman together."

"I _can_ tell you that you don't know what you're sounding off about!"

Chris stepped between the two. "Stop it!" he ordered. "The fact is it's none of our business! Nobody needs to speculate about it. So we don't say anything, especially to the Guv. Right?"

Shaz and Ray nodded but continued to stare daggers at each other. Chris sighed. Sometimes it was tough being caught between his wife and his best mate. But the fact was, he understood why Shaz was particularly annoyed. He just couldn't explain it to Ray.

They entered CID and immediately saw that the ex-Mrs. Hunt was in the office with their DCI. Alex was taking notes and Madeleine was wiping her eyes. Whatever the woman's reason was for being there, she was clearly very upset.

Ray walked over to his desk and stubbed out his cigarette. He cast a scornful eye in the direction of the office, then sat down. Chris and Shaz went to their respective desks. If their help was needed, they'd know soon enough.

**********

As with any such case, getting the facts together was a painful process for the loved one. Alex carefully guided Madeleine through the questions, finally getting a clearer picture of what had happened.

On Friday, Zoe Bennett had traveled by train to London. She checked into a nice hotel and called Madeleine to say she'd arrived safely. That night she went to Belinda's hen party. The wedding was on Saturday, with a reception at a same hotel where Zoe was staying. Again, Zoe called Madeleine when she got back to her room, promising to be home before dark on Sunday.

That was the last Madeleine heard from Zoe.

On Sunday night, Madeleine called the hotel, thinking that perhaps Zoe was still registered. The front desk staff said that Miss Bennett had checked out that morning. By Monday morning, Madeleine was truly frightened and phoned Zoe's friends in London, just in case they'd heard from Zoe. No one had. Gathering her courage, Madeleine also called Belinda's parents. They were cool and said they'd no idea where their young cousin was but Madeleine shouldn't worry because Zoe was always flighty and odd and insinuated that her current "lifestyle" proved that.

Getting the telephone numbers of some of the hospitals near Zoe's hotel, Madeleine started calling to see if the young woman had been admitted. When asked, Madeleine claimed to be Zoe's sister. The answer was always negative.

When Monday night came with still no word from Zoe, Madeleine was frantic. She decided that her only course of action would be to come to London herself. She arrived on Tuesday afternoon and started the process all over again. On Wednesday morning, Madeleine went to the police, again claiming to be Zoe's sister. "I was afraid if I told the truth, they'd just laugh – or worse," she told Alex. As it was, she was told that Zoe was likely all right and had run off with some man for Valentine's Day.

Finally acknowledging to herself that she'd no real idea of how to search for a missing person, Madeleine was desperate enough to turn to the one person she knew who did: Gene.

"I knew he'd probably laugh in my face," Madeleine said. "But I had to try. In spite of everything, I don't think Gene would want anything bad to happen to Zoe. Not really."

Looking up from her notes, Alex met Madeleine's gaze. The brown eyes were red-rimmed from tears and lack of sleep. And something else: fear.

"Miss Brown," Alex began.

"Please call me 'Madeleine.'"

"Madeleine. You've made a good start. And you've done all you can for now." Alex took a clean notepad from a drawer and passed it over, along with a pen. "Would you make a list of Zoe's friends and family and their addresses and phone numbers? And the hospitals you contacted. The hotel. We'll take it from here. Do you have a recent photograph?"

"Yes." Madeleine opened her large purse, withdrew a photo, and handed it to Alex.

Zoe Bennett was a beautiful young woman. She had curly auburn hair and green eyes. Her round face was covered in freckles which she made no effort to hide with makeup. The picture had been taken outside somewhere, possibly last summer. The sky was blue and the sunlight was beaming down on her face. She appeared very happy. Alex suspected that Madeleine herself had taken the photo. "She's quite pretty," Alex observed. Madeleine nodded but said nothing.

Alex put the picture with her notes. "While you're writing down the address and numbers," she told Madeleine, "I'm going to check on a couple of things. I'll be back in a few minutes." She stood and made her way to the door. "Would you like some tea?"

"That would be nice, thank you," Madeleine replied gratefully. "Milk and one sugar."

Opening the door, Alex paused for a moment. "Please try not to worry too much," she said. We'll do everything we can."

"I know," Madeleine replied. "Gene said you would." She took an address book from her purse and began making notes.

Stunned by the simple statement of faith, Alex left the office, closing the door behind her. The relationship between Gene and Madeleine may have ended badly, but his ex still had confidence in Gene Hunt and trusted his word.

Turning around she saw Ray glancing back and forth between her and Madeleine. She'd deal with him later. Chris and Shaz were at her desk, comparing notes about the contest scam. They looked up as Alex came near.

"Chris," said Alex, "I have a new job for you."

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"A missing person case. Come with me to the kitchen and I'll tell you about it."

Shaz spoke up. "Could I help, Ma'am?"

"Thanks, Shaz, but you'll need to stay on the con game. You were in the room when Mr. Pierson spoke with Higgins and Simmons." Alex turned to Chris. "_You_ I need with me."

Chris followed Alex to the kitchen where she set about making tea. She was glad that no one else was in the room. "Chris," she said quietly. "I understand that you've been with the Guv for a long time and were there during his divorce from Miss Brown."

"Brown?"

"She's gone back to her maiden name."

"Oh. Yeah." Chris nodded.

"So I know that you might feel a certain loyalty to the Guv. But I'm going to need help – and I saw you smile at Miss Brown."

"Well…" The DC seemed a little embarrassed. "I didn't know her well, but she was always nice to me."

"That's good to know because she needs our help now. Her partner, Zoe Bennett, is missing. She was in town for a wedding and should have been back in Manchester on Sunday evening. She didn't show and Miss Brown is understandably worried." Alex finished preparing the tea. "I'll fill you in on details in a bit. Right now I need to take her some tea – and find the Guv."

"Excuse me, Ma'am, but did you say partner?"

"Yes." Alex paused. When did that term come into common use? Perhaps she should be more plain. "Her girlfriend. They live together. Right now Miss Brown is writing down a list of friends and family we can contact."

"Right." Chris pointed to the mug of tea. "I'll take that to her, if you want. And you can go find the Guv."

Alex handed the mug over to Chris. "Thanks. I'll be right back."

They left the kitchen together. Chris entered the office and closed the door behind him. Alex noticed Ray scowling after him. Might as well deal with her DS right now.

"Ray," she said, approaching his desk. "The booking done?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he said. "Piggy and Howie are in separate cells at opposite ends of the corridor. They can't get together on their stories."

"They may have already, but it doesn't hurt to keep them apart."

He nodded in the direction of the office. "What's she doing here?" he asked cautiously.

"A friend of hers is missing."

"_Girl _friend?" There was no mistaking the sarcastic tone.

Alex leaned down and looked Ray in the eye. "As a matter of fact, yes," she said quietly. "And I don't want to hear anything about it. Clear?"

Ray was annoyed but answered, "Clear."

"Good." Alex straightened up again. "You, Gene, and Shaz can handle the fraud case."

"You're gonna help her?"

"That's right, Ray. That's what we do. Help people."

"But her…" Again Ray frowned. "You don't know what it was like, Ma'am. She shamed him. The way she left. _Why_ she left. Sam helped him through it, but it was a rough time for the Guv."

Alex considered the sergeant's statement. Ray was there. And he was fond of Gene. Admired his Guv. Tried to emulate him. Ray felt sorry for Gene during that time. And Ray was right. Alex _didn't_ know what Gene went through. He'd not told her. She'd experienced her own ugly divorce, but his was so different. At the same time, she was aware that Gene was not entirely blameless in his marriage falling apart.

She glanced toward Gene's desk. It had remained vacant for the last half hour. Ray followed her gaze. "He's out back," Ray told her. "Heard a couple of PCs say he went for a smoke."

"Thanks, Ray."

**********

Chris paused for a second inside the DCI office. Madeleine Brown was busy writing, glancing back and forth between a small notebook – it seemed to be an address book -- and pad of paper. It looked like she'd gained a little weight and there was more grey in her hair, but she was still a very pretty lady. Chris cleared his throat to get her attention. She turned and smiled when she saw who was standing there.

"DC Skelton," she said.

"Miss Brown," he answered. "DCI Drake told me that's who you are now. I brought you some tea."

Putting the notepad on the desk, Madeleine took the mug from Chris. "Thank you," she said.

Chris stood another moment, not certain what to say next. But Madeleine spoke again. "How are you?" she asked. "Do you like living in London?"

"Good. And yeah." This was something he could talk about with ease. "I got married. In December. DC Granger." He pointed to Shaz and Madeleine followed his direction. "Course, it's Skelton, now, but she still goes by Granger here because we're both DCs."

Madeleine smiled broadened. "Congratulations!" she exclaimed. "She's lovely. I'm very happy for you."

"Thanks. Um, how are you? I mean, besides – uh – right now, with – well—"

"I'm all right," she replied. "Except for this." She gestured toward the notepad.

"Yeah. I'm sorry," Chris added. "I'll be helping DCI Drake on the case."

Madeleine flinched. "Case?"

At first puzzled, Chris caught on. "Case" sounded bad. "Search," he corrected. "The search for—" What was her name again?

"Zoe," Madeleine said, as if reading his mind. She sat down, avoiding his eyes.

"Right. Zoe Bennett."

Chris could sense her fear. "We'll find her," he said, trying his best to reassure her. "DCI Drake is the best except for—" He stopped, but the unspoken name was obvious.

Madeleine nodded but didn't look up. Not knowing what else to do, Chris simply said, "DCI Drake will be back in a few minutes. Try not to worry." And he left the office.

**********

Gene looked at his watch. He'd been out there for nearly half an hour. He'd smoked three cigarettes and the flask was almost empty. Maybe he would go on to the pub. Ray and Chris could take care of Piggy and Howie. Dropping his cigarette, he ground it out under his heel. If Alex wanted to talk to him, she could find him later.

The back door opened and the lady in question stepped outside. Gene was glad no one else was around at the moment. They wouldn't have to worry about being overheard.

He didn't call out to her, but then he didn't need to. Alex scanned the area and saw him on the far side of the steps. She walked down and over to him. Her hazel eyes were soft and all Gene wanted to do at that moment was kiss her and usher her to the Quattro and drive off, leaving Fenchurch East and Madeleine behind.

"She still there?" he asked gruffly.

"Yes," Alex said. "I'm sorry. I know this must be rough for you."

"She left me, Alex! For Zoe! And now she comes down here, crying to me because her girlfriend's taken off!"

"Madeleine came here because she had nowhere else to go," Alex said. "Zoe came to London for a cousin's wedding on Saturday. She was supposed to be back in Manchester on Sunday. She never showed."

"Like I said," Gene sneered, "she probably just took off with someone else--"

"I don't think so."

"— and I don't blame her!"

"Will you stop it?!" snapped Alex. "This is serious. A young woman goes missing. You know what can happen. And the trail's nearly cold now. She's been missing since Sunday!"

Gene pulled out another cigarette and lit up. It was the most he'd smoked in a while, since he spent so much time at Alex's. He said nothing, just looked away. Against all their rules, Alex reached out and ran her hand down his arm. "Are you going to be all right?" she asked quietly. "Tell me."

"I'll be fine once she's on her way! Just let me know when that is!"

Anger flashed in Alex's eyes. "What do you mean, just let you know? Look, I'm not asking you to help with the search for Zoe—"

"That's good, because I won't!"

"—but there are other cases going on and you can't just walk out and pretend you're not needed." Someone's got to handle the fraud case while Chris and I work on the missing person."

"And I'm supposed to go back in there and act like Madeleine and I are old friends and it's great to see her again!"

"I expect you to do your job!"

They stared at each other for a moment. Then her features softened. "I'm sorry, Gene," she said. "I know some of what you're going through. Pete walked out on me and Molly when she was six months old. Six months old! I was hurt and angry. I still am. But I do my best when I'm around him. Can't you do the same here? You and Madeleine come to some sort of understanding?"

"You handle your missing person case any way you want! I don't care!" Gene growled. "But what went on between Maddy and me is none of your fucking business!"

He regretted the words as soon as he said them. If there was anyone he could tell, _should _tell about his past, his pain, it was Alex. Why did he keeping pushing her away, just when he wanted her closer?

But now Alex's eyes narrowed, reflecting hurt and anger. But the anger outweighed the pain. She closed the space between them. "Fine!" she said, her voice rough with emotion. "Fine! _You_, Ray, and Shaz will be working on the fraud case. Chris and I will be on the missing person case. Just remember _you're_ the one who told Madeleine that I'd help her -- because you knew I would. And that made it my fucking business!" Then she took a step back and turned to walk away. "And don't pretend you don't care," Alex added over her shoulder. "Or you wouldn't still call her 'Maddy!'"

Gene watched her leave, furious with her, with Madeleine, with the whole situation. He threw down his cigarette and found his flask again, draining the last bit of whisky from it. All right. Enough of avoiding his ex. She was going to be there for the rest of the day. And he had a job to do.

TBC…


	12. Old Wounds

**Author's note: As series three of "Ashes to Ashes" approaches, I know that my own ideas for the story will take a different direction than what the writers and producers of the series have in mind. So please just consider "Aftershock" and "Repercussions" as an alternate universe. I'd like to have all my ideas posted before the entire series is wrapped up; but I'm such a slower writer, I don't know if that will happen. In the meantime, I'm avoiding spoilers and am awaiting series three.**

**At the head of Chapter 1, posted a disclaimer about Ashes to Ashes being the property of BBC, Kudos, etc. I should add that all original characters are the products of my own imagination and no resemblance to any person, living or dead, is intended, through name or personality or actions.**

**Many thanks to Amlyn for continuing support, her sharp editor's eye, and contribution of some excellent lines. Her acerbic wit really comes in handy. And thanks to Katie Duggan's Niece for being a wonderful beta and her great observations and suggestions.**

**Chapter 12**

**Old Wounds**

Madeleine wasn't in the office when Alex returned. She went to Shaz's desk where the young woman sat with Chris. "Do you know where Miss Brown is?" Alex asked them.

"Ladies'," Shaz answered. "She came out the office a minute ago. Chris introduced us. 'I want you to meet the missus,' he said. I don't know who blushed more, me or him." The couple both laughed.

"Thanks," Alex said, going on into her office and sitting down. Madeleine's list of contacts lay on the desk. The woman was thorough. Not only were there names, addresses, and phone numbers, Madeleine had also included the relationship of each person to Zoe.

Shaz approached the open door of the office. "A word, Ma'am?" she said.

"Of course," returned Alex indicating the empty chair. "Is there anything else?" she asked the WDC.

"It's just that – well -- Miss Brown -- she seems nice," Shaz said, her voice low. "Chris told me what's happened with her girlfriend. I know what you said about me staying with the fraud case, but if you need any help at all, I'll be glad to pitch in."

There was an earnestness in the WDC's voice that Alex found puzzling. "That's very considerate of you, Shaz," she said. "She's going through a bad time."

"Well, Ma'am, it's just that…" Shaz sat down. "I understand. My great aunt Daisy, you see. My mum's aunt. I don't know if you remember meeting her at the wedding." Alex nodded. "Well," Shaz continued, "she had a – a girlfriend, too. Barbara. When I was a kid, I used to spend part of my summers with Aunt Daisy. She worked in an office. She and Barbara didn't live together. They had to be careful because Barbara was a teacher.

"I loved staying with Aunt Daisy. And Barbara. She was like another aunt. My mum wanted me to see that a woman could be independent. They took me to plays and museums and concerts. As I got older, I knew they were more than friends. But it didn't bother me. People love who they love."

Alex smiled. "That's very true. I don't remember Barbara being at the wedding," she said.

Shaz looked down. "She died. Five years ago. Breast cancer." Raising her head again, she went on. "I saw what Aunt Daisy went through then. Same as anyone else losing someone they love. That's why I volunteered to help."

The story was touching and Alex understood Shaz's wanting to be a part of the search. "I'm so sorry about Daisy's loss – and yours. I'll let you know if there's something you can do," Alex told her.

Madeleine came to the door of the office. "I'm sorry," she said. "Should I – "

Shaz got to her feet. "It's all right. I'm on my way back to my desk." She directed Madeleine to the chair. As Shaz left the office, Alex asked her to close the door. She had other questions for Madeleine that might be a bit more stressful for the woman.

As Madeleine sat down, Alex gave her a smile. "Thank you for giving us all this information," Alex said, indicating the notepad. "There are a few more things we need to know."

**********

Gene entered CID and went straight for Ray's desk. On the way, however, he couldn't help glancing into Alex's office. Madeleine and Alex were talking. On the surface, the women appeared at ease with each other. Gene wasn't sure he was comfortable with that. As he approached Ray's desk, the sergeant sat up. "Guv," he greeted.

"Ray. Are Piggy and Howie ready?"

"Yeah."

"Right! Let's go talk to Simmons first. He's the weak link. Probably pissed his pants by now. Make Piggy wait and he'll think Simmons turned."

Ray grinned. "This ought to be fun."

As the two men left the department, Gene took another look over his shoulder toward Alex's office. When he faced forward again, Gene saw Ray watching him. "You okay, Guv?" the sergeant asked.

The man meant well. Gene knew that. But it galled him to be asked. "Why wouldn't I be?!" he snarled. "Let's go!"

**********

Alex got a little more information about Zoe – date of birth, height, weight, distinguishing features. Then she turned to other matters. "Madeleine," Alex began, "there are a few things we need to know about your relationship with Zoe."

"Such as?" Madeleine returned, sitting up straighter and meeting Alex's gaze steadily.

"Such as, are there any problems between the two of you?"

"I told you she was supposed to return home for our anniversary."

"Yes, but that's not answering my question."

Madeleine hesitated. "We have our spats," she finally said. "Like any other couple. But never so bad that we couldn't make it up."

Alex leaned forward. "Could there possibly be someone else?" she asked gently.

"No!" replied Madeleine, shaking her head. "Not on my part and not on Zoe's."

"Are you certain?"

Lifting her chin, Madeleine said, "Yes, I'm certain. I'd know the signs if there was someone else. I've been through that before. Gene wasn't the most faithful husband."

For whatever reason, Alex didn't expect such a blunt answer. Gene had never denied his infidelities while married, but to hear it flat out from his ex-wife rattled Alex a bit. Pretending to examine the list of names, Alex knew that everything about her expression and body language told Madeleine of her relationship with Gene – if she hadn't already figured that out. As Madeleine had said, she knew the signs.

Returning her gaze to the other woman, Alex went on. "Could there be some other problems? Depression? Anxiety over something? Money?"

"No," Madeleine answered quickly. Her eyes darted away for a few seconds and Alex understood that the woman was reconsidering the question, just to make certain of her answer. Then Madeleine relaxed. "No," she said again. "We do all right with money. I'm the one who gets down sometimes, but not too bad. In general, we're happy. Settled. We like the same things. Enjoy the same books and movies and music. We're like most couples. We go home at night and have supper and watch the telly. I know a lot of people don't think that people like us can have a kind of 'marriage,' but that's Zoe and me."

Again Alex cast her eyes on the paper. So much of what Madeleine had said could describe Gene and herself. Alex bit her lip to keep from smiling. What would Gene say if Alex told him, "You and I are just like Maddy and Zoe."

"All right," Alex said. "I'm going to try calling Zoe's parents. And I'm going to send our married DCs – the Skeltons -- off to talk with Belinda's parents."

"I hope they have better luck than I had," Madeleine sighed.

"Oh, you'd be surprised how co-operative people can be when the police come knocking."

**********

Alex lucked out. Zoe's parents answered their telephone on the third ring. As Madeleine guessed, the couple had been at Disney World for a few days. They were very upset by the news about their daughter and told Alex they'd be on the next available plane to London. Alex turned the telephone over to Madeleine, took the list of names, and stepped out of the office while the other woman spoke with the Bennetts.

Gene and Ray were still away from their desks. The rest of the team were on the phone or doing paperwork. Alex had put them to tracking down more victims of Piggy Higgy's con.

She found Chris and Shaz in the kitchen, stealing a few kisses. Alex cleared her throat, making the couple jump apart. "Really," Alex said. "Can't you wait until you get home?"

"My fault, Ma'am," Chris replied. "I was telling Shaz… Well, it's just that, if she was missing…"

Holding up a hand, Alex told him, "I understand. Just don't let Wilkins or one of his minions catch you."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Chris, please make two or three copies of this list. Then I want you and Shaz to call on – " Alex checked the names again. "—Mr. and Mrs. Jack Eaton. He's a first cousin of Zoe's mother, but they don't approve of Zoe's lifestyle. Miss Brown feels they weren't completely co-operative with her about any news of Zoe's whereabouts. See how they feel about talking with the police."

Shaz and Chris left the kitchen, and Alex welcomed the moment alone. With Chris gone for at least an hour, she'd need some help with checking hospitals – and the morgue. Poirot would be good. He was as tenacious as a bulldog.

Right then. All that was needed was to go over a couple more things with Madeleine, then she could send the woman to her hotel to get some rest. Alex left the kitchen, going toward the ladies'. With luck, she wouldn't have to put out any more fires the rest of the day.

**********

Shaz went into Alex's office to leave the list of names on the desk. Madeleine was standing by the window, looking out onto the street. She looked over her shoulder when Shaz walked in. "Is there anything you need, Miss Brown?" Shaz asked.

At first the older woman didn't answer. Then she said, "Maybe a glass of water?"

Shaz took Madeleine to the kitchen. "Please help yourself to tea or coffee if you want it," Shaz said. "Chris and I are on our way out to see the Eatons."

"Good luck," Madeleine told her. "They aren't very nice about Zoe and me."

"We can handle them," Shaz assured her as she left the room.

**********

Gene was all smiles as he and Ray returned to CID. "That went really well," Gene said. "With everything Howie told us, we should be able to put Piggy away for a while. Get started on the paperwork, Ray. I'll call the prosecutor's office right after I get a cup of coffee."

Ray sighed and went to his desk. "Right, Guv."

For a short time, Gene had been able to forget about Madeleine being in the vicinity and concentrate on the latest crimes of Barnaby Higgins.

And then he walked into the kitchen.

Madeleine stood there, staring at the one of the posters of scantily-clad women on the wall. Before he could stop himself, Gene said, "Does Zoe know you have a wandering eye? Or maybe you two have that picture at home."

Shaking her head, Madeleine turned to him. "Always ready with a witty remark," she said. "One of your more pleasant qualities. No, I'm just surprised that you can get away with this—" She pointed to the posters. "—when you have women working here. Especially when you have a woman in charge."

He shrugged. "Drake doesn't worry about things that don't matter."

She furrowed her brow. "Chris says she's the best – besides you."

Trying not to smirk, Gene just nodded. "She's good."

"Good," Madeleine echoed. "I'm glad. How long have you worked together?"

"About a year and a half."

Gene wasn't sure why he didn't just walk out. Maybe it was because Alex had asked him to try getting along with his ex.

Madeleine spoke up again. "Never thought I'd see the day you'd be taking orders from a woman. What happened? Why are you DI now? What did you do? It must have been something serious to get you demoted and answering to a female DCI."

Okay. Getting along wasn't going to be easy. "Not your business," he said tersely.

"I'd've thought you'd be on your best behavior getting started down here."

Alex really was a nutter to think that he could tolerate this woman. "Repeat," he growled. "Not. Your. Business."

"Perhaps you haven't learned by now to control your temper?"

And this was the way it had been in those last years of their marriage. One or the other would start in, trying to find the thing that would set them to fighting. "_My_ temper?!" he shot back. "Don't recall you controlling yours the whole time we were together."

"Well, what did you expect?!" Madeleine snapped. "The way you were. Reeling home at all hours, so drunk you could barely stand!"

"Having a drink was the only way I _could_ go home! I can hold my booze!" Their voices were getting louder, but Gene didn't care just then.

"Right! You'd hold your booze and any little tart that came your way!"

"Obviously, I wasn't the only one having a little on the side, especially with tarts!"

"Don't you dare--!"

"Maybe Zoe just left you for someone younger – with bigger tits!" Gene growled.

"You bastard!" Madeleine hissed. "You know, I've always wondered what pissed you off more – that I left you for a woman? Or that I had the backbone to say it was over between us? Because you never had the guts to end it yourself!

"You're right! I should have left you first – as soon as I found out you were spreading them for every Tom, Dick, and Mary!"

Ray sat at his desk, listening to the fight in the kitchen get louder and louder. He noticed that everyone else in the area was paying attention as well – including two PCs who were particular favorites of Wilkins. Great. Where was Drake? Why wasn't she putting a stop to this? Getting to his feet, Ray headed in the direction of the shouting.

Alex came back into CID in time to hear the yelling and see Ray moving toward the kitchen. Wonderful. Couldn't she even go to the loo without coming back to chaos? She followed Ray.

The sergeant strode into the kitchen and directly between Gene and Madeleine.

"Shut it!" he yelled. The two stared at him, anger still in their faces. Ray lowered his voice. "You should have been done with this long ago. You cheated on each other. You hurt each other. So you got a divorce. Stop dragging it all out again. There's nothing you can say now that hasn't already been said. Enough!" Ray turned to leave, nearly colliding with Alex, who was standing in the doorway.

"Good work, Ray," she whispered.

He nodded to her. "Ma'am." He went back to his desk.

Alex glanced back and forth between the two still in the kitchen. They appeared angry, annoyed, and embarrassed, all at once. Her gaze lingered on Gene, trying to convey her understanding of his discomfort. But he avoided her eyes. "Madeleine," Alex said softly, "Would you come back to my office, please? There are a few more things I'd like to check with you."

Madeleine joined Alex at the kitchen door and together they went back toward the office. But as they went in, Alex said, "The truth is, Madeleine, that we do have all the information we need. I can see you're exhausted. Why don't you go on back to your hotel and get some rest? I have the hotel number and will call you this evening. Or I can come by. Either way you will be hearing from me."

The other woman sighed and nodded. "I am tired. Everything that's been going on. And then get into a fight with my ex." Then Madeleine chuckled a bit. "Ray's right. There's no reason Gene and I should be doing that." She gathered her things. "I'll wait for you to call. You've been so kind and I can't thank you enough."

"Just take care of yourself. I'll ask Sergeant James to phone for a taxi for you."

**********

Gene watched Alex escort the ex-Mrs. Hunt from the kitchen. Hard to believe that Ray Carling had that kind of insight. The sergeant was right. Madeleine and Gene kept tearing open old wounds that should have healed by now.

However they weren't completely healed and Gene still felt the embarrassment and sting of being betrayed by his ex. And at present, he wasn't quite sure how he felt about the woman now in his life. Alex appeared more concerned with the case than anything else. But then she was his Bolly and he wouldn't expect her to act much differently.

He was beginning to wish that he and Alex had stayed in bed that morning.

Walking back into CID, Gene went to Ray's desk. "I'm gone for the day," he said flatly.

"What?!" Ray pushed away from his desk. "You've got to call the prosecutors' office!" But Gene had already grabbed his coat and left the department.

**********

Having delivered Madeleine into Viv's care, Alex was on her way back to CID when she saw Gene walking toward the back door, coat draped over his arm. What was he playing at, leaving at 4:00 in the afternoon? Alex ran down the hall toward him.

"Gene! Wait!"

He stopped and faced her. Alex caught up. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"Pub," he replied.

"Look, Madeleine's just left. She's on her way to her hotel."

"Good. I'm on my way to my pub."

"You can't go," insisted Alex. "You're in the middle of a case."

Gene looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, "Ray can handle it. He wants to be a DI. Let him find out what it's really about."

"It's _your_ case!"

"Don't care."

"What happened to the man who was said a few days ago that he'd drag in the con man by the bollocks?"

"Did that. Now, pub." Gene turned on his heel and left the building, leaving Alex fuming.

**********

The feeling came over Gene as he walked down the street to the Quattro. That now irritatingly familiar sense of being followed. He'd had enough.

Going on past his car, he continued down the street, checking his watch as if in a hurry to get somewhere. Gene crossed one street and went down the next block. _I can still feel you there, arsehole,_ he thought. _Come on. Follow me._

Once more Gene checked his watch, then walked a little faster. He'd make his shadow think there was something urgent. Never looking back, Gene went to the end of the block, turned the corner – and waited.

A woman with a child went past, going straight along the street he'd just left. Then a short, dark-haired man rounded the corner. Gene recognized him immediately. He grabbed man by the coat and threw him hard against the building.

"_Constable_ Ben Owen," he said calmly. "What brings you to my side of town?"

Owen didn't fight back. In fact, he seemed amused about the entire thing. "Inspector Hunt," he replied. "Wasn't it _Chief_ Inspector last time we met?"

Gene ignored the remark. "Why are you following me, Owen?"

"Why would I be following—" Owen got no further. Gene turned the man to face the building and twisted Owen's arm behind his back.

"Don't even try," warned Gene. "I know it's you been following me around the city the past week and more. Wilkins got you doing his dirty work?"

"Arrgghh! Get off me!"

A man passing by stopped and stared. Gene pulled out his warrant card. "Police business!" he barked. The man hurried on. Gene returned his attention to Owen. "Wilkins is too much of a coward to do his own dirty work. He'd rather get a little toerag like you to do it. Keeps his hands clean."

"You're breaking my arm!" whimpered Owen.

"Don't tempt me! You chose the wrong man to follow! Especially today! So you know what you're going to do? You're going back to Wilkins and tell him that you're finished following around an honest copper. You're going to tell him that if he wants to know what I'm doing, he can face me like a man. But he won't. Because he's not a man! Not any more than you are!" Gene pulled Owen away from the building and threw him to the ground. The DC held his sore arm and stared up at Gene.

"I see you following me again," Gene said, his voice calm and steady and frightening, "and I won't hold back. And I'll make it my mission in life to make your life miserable." Leaving Owen on the ground, Gene walked away smiling. That felt good.

**********

Alex returned to CID and saw Ray on the phone. From his expression, she could see it was a serious conversation, so she didn't tell him to hang up. Instead she went into the kitchen for some tea, trying to clear her mind and calm down. Gene Hunt was _the_ most infuriating person she'd ever known – and it took some to beat Peter Drake. What was she supposed to do? Turn her back on a case of a missing woman? Act as though Madeleine was a threat or the enemy? Follow Gene to the pub and get drunk with him?

Alex was beginning to wish she and Gene had not gotten out of bed that morning.

Taking her tea to the office, Alex started writing up notes on the Zoe Bennett disappearance. She looked over a list of area hospitals and planned to start calling, praying that the woman would soon be found safe and sound and that Madeleine and Zoe would be back in Manchester by the end of the week.

Ray came in before Alex had a chance to pick up the receiver. "Ma'am, the Guv's left for the day," he said.

Alex sighed. "I know. I saw him on his way out."

"Well, I just got off the phone with the prosecutors' office. They're sending someone over."

"Thank you, Ray. And thank you for defusing the situation earlier. I'm so glad you're on top of things today. And the way it's shaping up, you'll be in charge of the Higgins case. Chris and Shaz should be back within the hour, so she can work with you. Chris is going to be working with me on the missing person case."

The sergeant frowned. "I've never worked directly with Shaz before," he said. "And we had words a little earlier."

Sighing, Alex said, "You and Shaz are adults and professionals and I know you'll conduct yourselves accordingly. Won't you?"

Ray nodded, comprehending that his DCI was in no mood for disagreement. "I can handle it. As for the other thing…" Ray hesitated. "It was like a flashback. Like in a movie. Not that they ever got into bad rows at the station. But I did see a couple of them. I told you that she shamed him. Word got around, how she was moving in with a woman – and why. You can imagine some of the jokes people made. And you know the Guv. He's proud. We all tried to keep the comments down, but Sam and Annie really helped the Guv through it."

Alex knew a police station would be a rough place to go through a divorce at any time. But with Gene's circumstances, she found herself grateful to Sam and Annie Tyler.

As Ray went back to his desk, Alex called Poirot in. She explained the missing person case to him and they both got to work on calling hospitals. A half hour later she still had no new information on Zoe's whereabouts. Chris and Shaz returned from their visit with the Eatons, Zoe's cousins. The DCs reported that the Eatons were surprised that Madeleine had not been exaggerating about the disappearance. However, they assured the detectives that they'd been honest with Madeleine and had no information about their young cousin.

Having settled one question, Chris began calling other hotels in case Zoe had checked in somewhere else. Although Madeleine had insisted that all was well in their relationship, there was still a chance that Zoe _was_ with another woman – or man. Shaz joined Ray at his desk and he brought the WDC up to date on the interviews with Higgins and Simmons.

The detectives worked steadily until nearly six o'clock when Alex sent them all home. Or Luigi's. Or wherever they wanted to go. Prospects for the Crown's case against Higgins and Simmons looked satisfactory. The outlook for finding Zoe Bennett wasn't so good. They'd come up empty on every call. Alex was not looking forward to seeing Madeleine.

For several more minutes, Alex sat in her office. The lights were out in the department and she was alone. She'd often wondered about Gene's sitting there, drinking, thinking, long after everyone else had gone. All alone in the quiet of his department. She'd considered it to be a very lonely thing to do. Perhaps that he was pouting or being sullen. Now she understood his actions. It was a time to reflect on cases and decisions made and actions taken. Not that Gene Hunt was a man to second-guess himself. But she could imagine his contemplating where those actions would lead.

Today Alex had met Madeleine Brown and had witnessed some of the hard feelings still left between Gene and his ex. But even as they'd snarled at each other and hurled insults, Alex sensed a deep sadness there, beyond the pain and anger. And now she felt caught in the middle – loving Gene and wanting to help Madeleine.

Alex picked up the phone to call Madeleine, letting the woman know that Alex would be at the hotel about 6:30. Madeleine offered to get them a table in the restaurant, so they would meet there.

As she walked out, Alex stopped a moment at Gene's desk. Her old desk. He'd not come back, not called. As soon as her dinner with Madeleine was finished, Alex wanted to see him. She only hoped that he'd want to see her as well.

She leaned against the desk opposite Gene's and closed her eyes. _Don't pretend you don't care. Or you wouldn't still call her 'Maddy!' _Why had she said that? To make Gene see that he couldn't dismiss out of hand thirteen years of his life? Dismiss a love that had once brought them a child?

Or did she say it out of jealousy?

That thought startled Alex. _Was_ she jealous of Madeleine? The answer readily came. She wasn't worried about the possibility that Madeleine could lure Gene away, even if his ex wanted him. Alex was secure in Gene's love. They might fight and yell and even pout with each other for a while, but their love was strong.

But Alex _was_ jealous. She was jealous of Madeleine for knowing a Gene that Alex would never know. A man who was young and ambitious and boisterous and…

And would Alex have fallen in love with that Gene? And would he have fallen for a mouthy, ballsy, independent woman like Alex Drake?

Alex grinned. The Gene she loved was loud and stubborn, sarcastic and angry. And he could be maddening beyond measure.

He was also mature and grounded, gentle and caring, funny and warm. And his heart was greater than she could ever have imagined. And his love overwhelmed her.

She wouldn't trade her Gene for anything.

**TBC**


	13. Recovering

**Author's note: Ever had one of those chapters or stories that just won't come together? This was one of those. I had scenes written but they just weren't working in a cohesive manner. Finally, I was satisfied with this version. I hope it's enjoyed. My apologies for having taken so long in getting it posted. And the chapter is much longer than I'd originally planned -- but there was so much to tell.**

**Many thanks to Amlyn and Katie Duggan's Niece. And thanks to everyone who reads, reviews, alerts, and favorites. I'm most grateful.**

**Parts of this chapter might be disturbing to some readers. It is, however, still within a 'T' rating.**

**"Ashes to Ashes" is the property of BBC, Kudos, etc. All original characters are the products of my own imagination and no resemblance to any person, living or dead, is intended, either through name or personality or actions.**

**Chapter 13**

**Recovering**

It was only a few years ago – well, really about ten years ago – that Gene could leave work, start drinking, and hours later still be ready to charge off to do battle, with no ill effects.

In the last couple of years, he'd faced the fact that he couldn't do that anymore. He wasn't certain, however, if he blamed his age or his disposition. Gene would rather think he'd just learned better than to risk his judgment. It was better than thinking he was getting old.

In any case, he now found that he preferred nursing one pint of bitter rather than chugging down two. He could sit in his favorite pub, drink slowly, smoke, and think. And this day had given him plenty to think about. Madeleine. Billy. Zoe. Alex.

His thoughts first turned to Alex. Gene used to sneer at people – especially men – who said they were in love. Not just love, but head over heels, walking on air, just like in the movies love. That was for kids and silly women. Not for adults. Gene had known love, had felt it more than once. But those "in love" types just came across as ridiculous.

And then he'd met Alex.

She didn't make him feel the way love was shown in movies. And certainly not like he was a stupid teenager. But Alex made him feel – different. Happy. Peaceful. Worried. Protective. Grateful for every sunrise. Thankful for every night in her arms. She made him angry beyond reason sometimes. She came close to breaking his heart at other times. She healed his wounds, some he didn't know he had. She made him feel strong. She brought him to his knees. She made him feel -- alive. He loved her. And Gene knew in his heart that Alex felt the same way about him. He had no doubt about her love for him.

Had he ever felt that with Maddy? No, not to the measure that Alex had brought to him. Gene had loved Madeleine. He liked to think that she loved him, too. But their marriage was one more of convenience than anything else. It was somewhat comfortable and secure. Certainly not perfect. Differences were ignored in an effort to make a go of their life together. Billy, their beautiful, perfect boy, was their comfort and their strength. His illness and death drew them closer – for a while. But they never really shared their pain. They skirted around it, as if acknowledging it would break them. But not facing it hurt them more. Their pain and anger turned outward and sideways. Gene wasn't sure when they started down the path of infidelity, although he was sure that he stepped out first. Madeleine began to nag him about his drinking, not confronting the idea of other women. Then she would go out, mimicking his actions and angering him. Eventually they were just sharing a house and getting into horrible rows. Often that was the only talking they did.

Then, finally, they didn't even do that. Madeleine had her own job, her own life. Gene went about his job, not even worrying about when he was going home or what to tell his wife. Sam warned him and encouraged Gene to get some counseling if he wanted to save his marriage. By that time, Gene wasn't sure he wanted to go on with it. But it took Madeleine to make that final decision. She was right. That did piss him off. That it was her choice to walk out. Gene had suspected that Madeleine's dalliances involved women as well as men. Now that idea was borne out. His wife moved in with Zoe Bennett. And the rest, as they say, was history.

He'd hated Madeleine for that. The rumors started at the police station and went like wildfire. The Guv's wife chucked him for a woman. Mrs. Gene Hunt was a lesbo, a dyke, a carpet muncher. What kind of man drives his wife into the arms of another woman? Gene was humiliated. Sam and Annie tried to help; but in the end, Gene had to go through it alone. He held onto his pride and kept his head high. The joking soon stopped.

And now Madeleine was back. Zoe was missing. Even though Gene wanted to ignore the whole thing, Alex was right. It could be serious. He didn't like Zoe, but he never wanted her to come to harm – mostly because it would hurt Maddy. And Maddy had been through enough pain in her life.

Gene checked his watch. It was past five and he was getting hungry. He'd missed lunch while waiting to arrest Piggy Higgins. Gene paid his tab and went to the nearest pay phone. A call to Viv let him know that Alex was still busy, so Gene decided to go on to dinner. Curry would hit the spot. Alex would be pissed off that he didn't wait. Or maybe he'd get some takeaway for them both – and give her a chance to bend his ear and try to get him to talk. She always wanted to talk.

Thinking about his past with Madeleine and his present with Alex made Gene uneasy. Could he and his Bolly ever end up hurting each other the way he and Maddy did? Betraying each other? Being strangers?

Gene snorted in disbelief. That wouldn't happen. He just wouldn't let it.

**********

The delicious aroma of spices greeted Gene as he entered the restaurant. He'd found this place soon after moving to London. Sam had taught him to look for the "real" restaurants that served the food enjoyed by those who knew the culture. As a result, Gene had become spoiled by the authentic flavors of Indian cooking. He had brought Alex here a few times, pleased that she heartily approved of the place.

Since he was a regular customer, Gene was offered his usual booth. He explained that he was only there for take away. Before he could order, he heard a friendly voice from behind him.

"Hunt!"

Gene looked up to see DCI Elliott Jones coming into the restaurant. Jones had been DI at Fenchurch West until a few months ago. After the King Douglas blag and DCI Carnegie's subsequent dismissal, Jones had been promoted – and the station was all the better for it.

Gene held out his hand to shake Jones's. "Good to see you," he told the DCI. "How are things at Fenchurch West?"

"We're all patting ourselves on the back over there," Jones replied. "Didn't you hear about the arrest some of our lads made last night?"

"Guess not."

"Two PCs and two DCs were out last night and saw a woman being assaulted. Three men trying to force a girl into a car. Had a pillowslip over her head. She was fighting them. Barely seventeen years old. Our lads chased them down, got the girl to casualty. They'd already beat her up. Vicious creatures. Can't really call them men, can you?"

Gene felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand. "Where was this?" he asked.

"In an alley near the coach station. The girl had just gotten off the coach. Brazen little thugs, trying that so close to the police station."

Gut feeling. A hunch. Gene followed it. "Any of them have records? History of assaults?"

"No. But we searched their homes. Looks like they've attacked more than one woman. They had trophies. Handbags. Five of them hidden in the closet of one's flat. The other two still living at home. None of them over age twenty. We're checking reports of other women being assaulted. Comparing fingerprints of the women and on the handbags. I think we've accounted for all of them."

"Are you on your way home?" Gene asked.

Jones frowned, and Gene knew the DCI followed his thoughts. "Think you have someone to add?" the DCI asked.

"Don't know. But I'd like to see what you've put together."

**********

The hotel restaurant was nearly full when Alex arrived. She saw Madeleine at a booth and made her way over. Although Alex had told her to get some rest, it was clear that Madeleine hadn't done so, even if she had changed clothes. The woman had dark circles under her eyes and worry lines on her forehead. Yet Madeleine was so relieved to see Alex, leaving the DCI feeling guilty that she had no new information to give.

Upon hearing that, Madeleine's face fell. She looked away and nodded. "I knew there wasn't much chance, but still…"

"I'm sorry," Alex said. "At least we know that—" She hesitated, then plunged ahead. "There's been no one matching Zoe's description at the city morgue."

Some color returned to Madeleine's cheeks as she grasped the bit of hope that this news offered. "Thank God," she murmured.

A waiter appeared, asking if they had decided on dinner. Alex took a quick look at the menu and ordered chicken. Madeleine echoed the choice and the waiter left. "Don't know if I can eat," Madeleine said. "I'm not hungry. I've not even thought about eating. I've just been so worried." Soft brown eyes met Alex's. "I can't begin to tell you how grateful I am for what you're doing," Madeleine said.

"We'll begin again in the morning," Alex told her. "We've covered most of the area around the hotel and train station. We can extend the search tomorrow. Have you heard any more from Zoe's friends?"

"No, but Stirling and Marjory called." Alex must have looked blank because Madeleine went on to explain. "Zoe's parents. They've booked a flight back to London. They should be here tomorrow afternoon." Madeleine began playing with the silverware. "I wish we'd gone to Florida with them. But Zoe didn't want to miss Belinda's wedding."

The waiter brought soup for them. Alex nodded toward Madeleine's bowl. "Eat," she said. "You need to take care of yourself. When my daughter Molly was ten, she had her appendix out. I was worried, and my godfather made me have something to eat. Said if I didn't take care of myself, I'd be no good to Molly. And you'll be no good to Zoe if you don't eat and get some rest."

Madeleine took the soup spoon in hand and began to eat. "Strange you should say that," she observed. "I remember a nurse telling me the same thing when Billy—" Madeleine stopped abruptly. Alex caught the woman's gaze, trying to convey silently that she understood. Still Madeleine asked, "Do you know about Billy?"

Nodding, Alex replied, "Gene told me."

A sad smile came to Madeleine's face. "If I had any question before about you and Gene, it's answered now. He'd never tell you about Billy if he didn't trust you. If you weren't – close?"

Alex felt herself blushing. "We're good friends," she responded, sidestepping the unspoken question in the other woman's eyes.

They ate in silence for a moment. Then Madeleine said, "I feel guilty taking you away from your daughter tonight."

"Well," Alex began hesitantly, "she's not with me at present. She's with her godfather. It's – it's a long story." She took a sip of water.

"You must miss her very much."

"Yes." Alex could hear the slight tremor in her voice. "I hope we can be reunited… soon."

The waiter came with their dinners and they began to eat. Alex hadn't realized how hungry she was. She'd missed lunch that day. The food was excellent. Chicken, roasted potatoes, asparagus with hollandaise sauce. She stole a glance at Madeleine's plate and was pleased to see that the other woman was making short work of her meal as well. "This is really delicious," Alex commented.

Madeleine nodded. "I didn't know I was so hungry. Between the café and Zoe's cooking, I'm usually very well-fed."

"Does Zoe do all the cooking?"

"Most of it. She's a chef. A real chef. Went to school here in London. I can do regular things. You know. What our mums taught us. Zoe can work wonders."

"Then why -- ?" Alex stopped. A café was perfectly respectable business and Alex was about to belittle it. But it was obvious that Madeleine knew what Alex had intended to say.

"Why a neighborhood café? Why not a more posh place?" Madeleine smiled.

"Well, yes."

"Zoe says that's an art, too. The everyday food that people like best. And if there's a place that can do a good fry-up, they'll keep coming back."

"Smart woman," Alex observed.

"Yes. Some of our regulars come in three or four times a week. We know our customers and they know us. We're part of the neighborhood." Madeleine fell silent and looked away. Alex could almost feel the despair in the woman.

"How did you and Zoe meet?" asked Alex.

A gentle smile came to Madeleine's face. "She was born and raised here in London. Her father has a business distributing magazines to stores all over the city. Decided to study cooking. That's where she met Cadee Reid. Cadee is from Manchester and they decided to open a café there. Zoe would do the cooking and Cadee would do the baking. They'd bring people in with the smell of fresh-baked bread and cake. It worked. They were good at the food but terrible with the books and payroll and taxes. They advertised for a bookkeeper, and I had training in that. I had a part-time job as a typist, so I applied." Madeleine blushed. "Zoe said, when I walked in, it was love at first sight for her. I don't know how," she shrugged. "I'm no great beauty."

Alex opened her mouth to protest, but Madeleine said, "Don't try to say otherwise just to be nice. But Zoe, she loves me. And I love her. Of course, it took me a bit longer. Two whole days. I didn't know what to do. Zoe and Cadee were a couple. I found out later it wasn't serious. Basically, they were just friends. But the idea of Zoe and me…"

The waiter came to clear their places. Alex asked for a cup of coffee and Madeleine ordered tea. While they waited, Alex resisted the urge to check her watch. Gene might be waiting for her – or he might not. As much as she wanted to excuse herself and call him, Alex felt that she couldn't leave Madeleine. Not yet. The waiter returned with their order and Madeleine reached for her cup, wrapping both hands around it.

"Zoe is one of those people who knows herself and doesn't let anyone tell her how to live," Madeleine continued. "She always knew who she was. It wasn't so easy for me. Zoe wasn't my first, and I knew my -- preferences. But the way I was brought up, it wasn't something I'd ever really accepted about myself. The idea of falling in love and making a life together was a little frightening. But Zoe, she's fearless. She gave me the courage to be with her. Although if my parents had still been alive, I'm not sure I could have done it. But there was no one I needed to be accountable to – except Gene. That was difficult enough. It got quite ugly. But I wasn't going to lie to him. There'd been enough of that between us. So I left, moved in with Zoe, and we've been together for five years now."

The women were quiet for a few moments. Then Alex asked, "What about Cadee? How did she take it?"

"Like I said, she and Zoe weren't serious. Toni was perfectly happy for us. She doesn't have a stake in the café anymore. She has a bakery down the street, so we still have fresh bread and cakes. Cadee sells bread, scones, muffins, cakes. She does a lot of wedding cakes."

Alex's jaw dropped. "Cadee Cakes?!" she blurted out.

Madeleine appeared confused. "Yes," she said. "That's the name she's thinking of for that part of the business. How did you know?"

How did she know? There was no way Alex could explain that, in the 21st century, Cadee Cakes was the number one place to order a cake for a wedding, birthday, anniversary, or any other occasion. Cadee Reid had not one but _two_ shops in London, as well as the one in Manchester, and that all were booked solid for months ahead of time. There was even a television series that showed Cadee working on some of her more elaborate creations. But Alex simply replied, "I didn't. It just sounded like a good name."

So Alex now had the love story of Madeleine and Zoe. And Zoe was missing and Madeleine was heartsick with worry. How would Alex herself feel if Gene disappeared? The answer was crystal clear. She would be just as heartsick and distraught as Madeleine was. Strange that she would think that when, just a year ago, Alex considered Gene to be an "imaginary construct." Now he was part of her life. Part of _her_.

"How long have you and Gene been together?" Madeleine asked abruptly.

Startled, Alex groped for an answer, some denial of a relationship with Gene. However, when she met Madeleine's eyes, she knew there was no need for pretense. "About three months," she said.

"You love him. And he loves you."

Madeleine's statement took Alex off guard. Before she could reply, the other woman went on. "It's clear that he does. He never looked at me the way he looks at you."

"I – uh – I'm not sure – " Alex didn't know what to say. If Madeleine could see it, what about the detectives of CID? Especially Chris and Ray?

"Even when you were asking me about Zoe today, you kept glancing through the windows of your office, looking for Gene."

Alex didn't want to believe that was true, but she knew that it was. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't realize. Please don't think I don't care."

"I know you do," Madeleine said. "It's all right. You couldn't help it. You love him."

Leaning forward, Alex propped folded arms on the table. "I don't even know when it happened," she confessed. "I – sort of landed at Fenchurch East and there was Gene. We butted heads right from the start. Argued. But we work well together and we got used to each other. Learned to trust each other. And that was difficult for me. I was married a long time ago. My husband walked out on me and my daughter when she was six months old. Gene and I still have our rows, but most of them are confined to work. And we sort things out." She smiled. "In our own way."

Madeleine returned the smile. "I'm glad you found each other. Gene is really a good man. We just weren't good for each other. I think we married because, well, it's just what we were supposed to do. We were just a couple of Manchester kids – well, not kids, really. But friends introduced us. We liked each other. We were comfortable with each other. And in those days, at a certain age, you got married.

"We had a lot in common. Both of us working class. Grew up just a couple of streets from each other. Close to our mums. I was lucky I had a good father, but he died when I was a kid. I think Gene and I were both looking for security."

Alex hesitated, but plunged ahead. "But from what Gene's told me, I know you loved each other. And Billy."

"I think we did love each other – a little. I used to think if Billy had lived, we might have stayed together. But now I know we wouldn't have. It was like Ray said. We cheated on each other. Hurt each other terribly. All we did was shout at each other."

"You were trying to communicate," Alex surmised, "but you didn't know how." When Madeleine frowned in puzzlement, Alex said, "I have a degree in psychology."

Madeleine burst out laughing. "Gene in love with a psychologist! I never thought I'd see anything like that! Just like – " She sobered but still smiled. "Sam. I guess he had more influence on Gene than I thought. Dear Sam. He kept trying to get us into counseling, but we were too far gone by then."

They had more coffee and tea and talked. But even with the tea, Madeleine soon began to stifle yawns and Alex understood that they both needed some rest. And Alex wanted to see Gene.

**********

Gene parked the Quattro near the hotel and sat a moment. This was going to be rough. The information that he got from Jones reminded him why he became a cop – and why he sometimes hated being one.

He and Jones got their takeaway and went back to Fenchurch West. Gene wasn't welcome there, but the DCI stared down anyone who showed any displeasure with the man from Fenchurch East.

Jones and his detectives did a good job on the case. The new DCI was making his CID into a team more concerned with justice than filling their own pockets. Better than Carnegie ever did. But cases like this tested any decent man.

After he got all the information, Gene went to Luigi's, looking for Alex. She wasn't there or in her flat. Finally he called Shaz, who told him that Alex was going to meet Madeleine at the hotel where his ex was staying.

He went into the lobby and got the man at the front desk to call Madeleine's room. When there was no answer, the clerk suggested Gene try the restaurant. Gene saw the women in a booth, chatting like old friends. _Probably talking about me_, he thought. _It's something they have in common. _Not wanting to speak with Madeleine in the crowded restaurant, he went back outside to wait for Alex.

**********

After dinner, Alex walked with Madeleine to the elevators. "I hope you can get some sleep tonight," Alex said. "We'll start fresh in the morning."

Madeleine sighed. "I'll try. You're right, though. Zoe herself would be telling me not to worry." Biting her lip, she whispered, "But how can I _not_ worry?"

Alex touched Madeleine's arm. "I don't know," she replied truthfully.

"You've been very kind," Madeleine said. "Thank you." She entered the elevator. Alex watched the doors close, taking the woman to her own floor.

Going back through the lobby, Alex reached into her pocket, looking for her mobile phone for a moment before remembering that she didn't have one. Not here in 1983. Damned inconvenient! She wanted to call Gene to see how he was. She could call from a pay phone, but decided to just go on home. The sooner she got there, the sooner she'd know if he decided to stay at his own place for the night.

A couple of taxis were outside and Alex hurried out to catch one. She'd no sooner walked out the door when she heard someone call her.

"Alex!"

Gene was there, cigarette in hand, obviously waiting for her to emerge. _Ridiculous man,_ she thought. _Why didn't he just come into the hotel?_ "Gene!" she answered. "What are you doing here--?" Alex stopped short. There was only one reason he would track her down here – and the expression on his face was enough to confirm her suspicions. Either someone from the team was hurt or… They walked toward each other and Alex noticed he held a folder in his hand. "Is it Zoe?" she asked. When he nodded, she went on. "How bad?"

"She's alive," Gene answered flatly. Alex relaxed a little. "But it's very bad," he added. Stamping out his cigarette, he motioned toward the hotel and they went into the lobby together. No one was in the sitting area, so they settled on one of the sofas.

"How did you find her?" Alex asked him.

"I was getting some curry for us," Gene replied, his voice low. "Ran into DCI Jones from Fenchurch West. He told me that some of his men arrested three men last night near the coach station. They were forcing a girl into a car. Turned out she was just off the coach from Birmingham. They'd already put a pillowslip over her head so she couldn't see them."

"And to de-humanize her," added Alex.

"When Jones and the other detectives searched the homes of the three, they found handbags in one flat. Hanging in the closet. Not even hidden."

"Trophies."

Gene nodded. "As Jones told me about the case, I just knew, my gut told me what happened to Zoe. There was no identification in the handbags, so Jones had his people go over recent assault cases today. They found some fitting the same pattern, but never the same place twice. Women travelling alone, abducted near stations. Pillowslips used. The women were beaten, robbed, raped, and left unconscious, miles from where they were taken. The first three were able to be treated and released. The last two had to be hospitalized. One is still there."

"Zoe," Alex concluded.

"Yes."

"But why couldn't we find her today?"

"Because she doesn't remember what happened."

"What?" This news floored Alex.

"It looks like Zoe was abducted from the train station. Sunday morning, not many people around. So no one saw. She was taken somewhere – they still haven't found where the scum took the women. Just like the others, she was beaten and raped. She was stripped and left miles away."

Alex tried to blink back tears but failed. She wiped away the few that escaped. "Oh, God. Gene." She examined his face and realized that he was clearly disturbed by the events. Alex placed a hand on his arm.

Gene gave her the folder. "The temperatures dropped pretty low that night. It was lucky that she was found or she might've died. She was taken to casualty. Terribly beaten. Concussion. Broken arm. They might have broken her arm to keep her from fighting back. There was hair, skin, blood under her nails. When she regained consciousness, she didn't remember what happened. She couldn't even remember her own name."

Even though Alex was somewhat prepared for what lay inside the folder, seeing the photographs of Zoe, beaten and bandaged, was a shock. Fresh tears came to her eyes. "After everything Madeleine told me, I feel as if I know her."

Gene continued. "If the cops from Fenchurch West hadn't caught them in the act last night, the little shits might've gone on for weeks without being caught. They took women from all over the city, left them somewhere else. They stole the cash and jewelry, dumped everything else. All they really wanted was to degrade the women. Each police station thought it was a one-off, didn't run it through Central." He took the folder.

"You said she's still in hospital?"

"Yes."

Alex stood. "We need to tell Madeleine."

"I – " Gene tapped the folder in his knee. "I don't think Maddy would really want me there."

"Gene, you and she were married for a long time. There will always be a connection. You still care. She needs to know that."

He considered her argument, then stood. "You'll need to tell her. But I'll be there."

**********

Alex called Madeleine's room from the lobby. The phone was answered on the second ring.

"Hello?" Madeleine's voice was shaky, as if she knew what would follow.

"Madeleine, it's Alex. I'm phoning from the lobby. Gene's here."

"Is Zoe dead?"

"No. She's alive. But she's in hospital. Gene and I are coming up. We'll tell you everything."

Gene and Alex were silent in the elevator. As they walked down the hall toward Madeleine's room, they saw her waiting for them in the doorway.

"Where is she?" Madeleine demanded as they approached. "What hospital? How is she?"

Alex nodded toward the room. "Let's go in," she said.

"I want to see her!"

"Please, Madeleine. We need to talk first."

They sat at the small table in the room and Alex began.

Gene leaned against the wall, glad that Alex was able to do this part. Madeleine took it hard, as he knew she would. Alex got up and knelt beside Madeleine's chair, letting Maddy cry on her shoulder. Yet he sensed in his ex-wife a sort of calm. After days of expecting the worst, Madeleine now knew that Zoe was alive. She'd survived. And she could recover – with the help of someone who loved her.

Madeleine looked up, meeting his gaze. "You found her?" she asked.

"When DCI Jones started talking about the case," he answered, "I knew in my gut what happened to Zoe. I called the hospital. Told them that I'd be bringing someone by who could identify her. Her next of kin."

"I'll get ready. I need to wash my face." Madeleine got up and walked toward the bathroom. She paused as she passed Gene. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for finding her."

**********

Alex rode in the back of the Quattro as they drove to the hospital. It was the first time she'd ever sat back there. It felt strange to Gene, not to have her sitting beside him; but she'd insisted on Madeleine sitting up front. They arrived at the hospital and Gene parked. Before they could get out, he took Madeleine's hand. They'd barely had a civilized word between them for years, but he had to say something now. "Maddy," he began, "you're one of the strongest people I know. And Zoe's gonna need that. We don't know exactly what happened to her. But it was hell. Now Zoe's tough. Tough as they come. But tough and strong aren't always the same. Tough can be surface. Strong comes from inside. You're gonna have to share that with her. She's got a long way to go and it'll be hard – especially when she starts remembering."

In the dim light of the streetlamps, Gene could see tears in Maddy's dark eyes. She nodded and squeezed his hand. And suddenly the years of pain and anger seemed to vanish. He didn't know how. Gene only knew that this was the woman he'd loved a long time ago, the woman who married him and gave him a son. They lost that son and then each other. Now she was going through a different heartache – and maybe he could help her.

As they walked into the hospital, Alex had her arm around Madeleine's shoulders. Gene brought up the rear. Alex looked back at him, smiling a little. The woman he loved now. And she loved him. Gene could understand what Madeleine was feeling. If Alex had to go through what Zoe had…

Alex met Gene's gaze. The man she loved. Every time she thought she knew him completely, he surprised her. The way he was with Madeleine touched her. Gene might bluster and rant, but sometimes his capacity for love and forgiveness overwhelmed her.

They got to Zoe's floor and Gene spoke with the matron on duty, a woman in her fifties, explaining the situation to her. The matron was happy to see them. "That poor girl," she said. "It's after visiting hours, but she needs her family right now. I'll page her doctor."

Moments later a young woman wearing a long white coat appeared. Zoe's doctor. She had long blonde hair and grey eyes. Alex guessed that she was in her thirties, but she might have been younger. "I'm Dr. Fairfax. You're here about one of our patients?"

Gene showed his warrant card. "I'm DCI – DI Gene Hunt. This is DCI Drake and Madeleine Brown. We're here about the Jane Doe who was brought in on Sunday. We believe she's Zoe Bennett from Manchester. Miss Brown here is her next of kin."

Madeleine stepped forward. She lifted her chin. "I'm her girlfriend," she said. "We live together."

The statement didn't appear to faze the doctor in any way. In fact, the young woman smiled. "You're Maddy?"

Alex and Gene looked at each other in disbelief. Madeleine, too, seemed surprised. "Yes! Did Zoe -- ?"

"She still doesn't remember her name or what happened. She was severely traumatized, both physically and emotionally, so that's probably why. But she's asked several times for 'Maddy.' Of course, without identification, we had no idea who you were or how to find you. I'm very glad you're here now." Dr. Fairfax paused. "You know what happened to her?"

"Yes," Madeleine acknowledged. "How is she doing?"

"She's in a lot of pain. She has a broken arm, three broken ribs, bruises and scrapes everywhere. She's upset, frustrated, feeling alone."

"She's not alone now. Where is she?"

"This way."

The doctor led them into a ward. "Since she didn't have ID and no visitors, we didn't want her to feel isolated." She stopped and looked at Gene. "It shouldn't be a surprise to learn that she's not reacting well to men at present, so I'll have to ask you to stay out of sight, Mr. Hunt."

Gene nodded. "I understand."

Fairfax returned her gaze to Madeleine. "She's probably asleep already. Go ahead and wake her up. Call her by name, but wait to see if she recognizes you. If she does, might lead to more memories. All right?"

Madeleine nodded. The doctor led them to Zoe's bed.

They knew what to expect. Still, the sight of Zoe was startling. She was asleep. Her left arm was in a cast and propped on a pillow. Her face, neck, and other arm were black and blue. Alex waited at the edge of the curtains and watched as Madeleine went to her lover's bedside. Gene stood behind Alex, out of sight but listening. The doctor turned on the light over the bed, then moved away.

"Zoe? Zoe? Wake up." Madeleine's voice was soft and Alex could hear a catch in it. Madeleine cleared her throat and spoke a bit louder and more clearly. "Zoe? You need to wake up. Come on, Zoe." She held Zoe's right hand and rubbed her arm. "Wake up and look at me."

Slowly Zoe's eyes fluttered open. She moaned and stirred and tried to focus. "What?" she mumbled, closing her eyes again.

"Look at me, Zoe. Come on. Wake up."

The young woman moaned. "Hurt," she said. But she finally kept her eyes open and focused on Madeleine. Recognition crept into her expression, then disbelief, and finally relief. She reached up to touch Madeleine's face. "Maddy?" she asked. "Maddy?!"

"Yes! Yes, darling!" Madeleine took Zoe's hand and kissed it. "Yes, Zoe. My beautiful girl." She kissed Zoe's forehead.

"Maddy!" Zoe was sobbing. "I'm hurt. What happened?"

"We'll find out, Zoe. We'll find out. I'm so sorry you're hurt. But you'll get better now."

"I want to go home, Maddy!"

"You need to get well, darling." Even through tears, Madeleine tried to calm Zoe. "And then we can go home."

"Take me home, now!" Zoe seemed almost frantic. "I want to go home with you! Please!"

Madeleine kissed and stroked Zoe's forehead. "I'm sorry, darling. You need to get well. But I'll be with you. I promise I'll stay. I won't leave you, my beautiful girl. I love you so much."

Zoe seemed to calm a little. "I love you, Maddy. Don't leave me."

"I won't."

Alex felt Gene move away from her. Wiping away tears, she followed him into the hallway. He walked to the end of the hall and looked out the window. Alex joined him and Gene drew her into his arms. They held on to each other, not speaking for several minutes, not moving. Finally Gene broke the silence. "Bolly," he whispered. He kissed her softly and then held her again.

A gentle cough alerted them to someone's presence and they stepped apart. Madeleine stood a few feet away. "I'm sorry," she said.

"It's all right," Alex answered.

For the first time since they met, Alex didn't see worry lines in Madeleine's face. In fact, the other woman appeared somewhat at peace. "Zoe's gone back to sleep," Madeleine said. "I'm going to stay with her tonight. Dr. Fairfax is having a more comfortable chair brought in for me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I promised I'd stay with her."

Gene spoke up. "Do you have any money?" Both women stared at him curiously. "If you want anything from the machines or the cafeteria in the morning," he explained. "You'll be here a long time."

Madeleine smiled. "I have some cash," she said. "Thank you for the offer. And thank you for everything else. Zoe's alive. And she'll get better."

"I hope you can sleep some," Alex told her. "I'll meet the Bennetts tomorrow at the airport and let them know what happened."

"That's good of you. Ta." She went back toward the ward.

Alex took Gene's hand. "Take me home?" she asked.

"I'll have you back at your flat straight away."

"No," she said. "Your flat."

**********

It was like the first time they made love. Tenderness and passion enveloped them. Gene and Alex understood their mutual need for this kind of intimacy – especially after dealing with a case involving the level of violence that Zoe suffered. Making love was an affirmation of life and the love that Gene and Alex shared.

Afterward, they lay together in silence. Just like at the hospital, there was a communication beyond words between them. Alex listened to Gene's strong, steady heartbeat. Once again she pondered what had brought her into his world. And once again she was grateful beyond measure that she knew this wonderful man, even though she was parted from her daughter.

Gene held Alex as she fell asleep, savoring the feel of her body next to his. He took in the scent of her perfume and listened to her steady breathing that he knew would soon turn into soft snoring.

What would he do if she disappeared? If he faced the real possibility of never seeing her again? He'd come all too-close to that just a few months ago – and at his own hand. And what if she was raped the way Zoe was? Could they make it through something that bad? How did couples survive the worst? He and Maddy hadn't. But he and Alex had managed to get past the shooting.

Trying not to wake her, Gene got up and put on his robe. He found his cigarettes, lit one, and opened the window a little to draw out the smoke. Then he sat on the edge of the bed, his back to Alex, elbows resting on his knees.

He felt a stirring behind him and glanced over his shoulder. Alex was awake again and taking in the scene. She sat up, donned her own robe, and moved closer to him. "I don't know what I'd do," Gene murmured. "If it was you, missing, then -- violated that way. I don't know what I'd do."

"Gene…"

"When Madeleine showed up today, it was like a kick in the gut. She made me think of a lot of things I didn't want to remember. Not Billy, of course. But what happened after we lost him. How we tore each other to shreds, trapped in a marriage falling to pieces around us. Grief kept us there and drove us apart. We didn't share it. Kept it private just when we should have been open. And I think we couldn't believe that the other was hurting just as much.

"We were strangers, living in the same house, only talking to shout at each other. We deliberately hurt each other, just to have a reason to fight. I drank too much. Cheated on her. Soon Maddy was doing the same. It all came down to not trusting each other."

Trust. Now Alex could see why Gene considered trust to be so important. For him, all fell apart without it. She touched his arm. "Madeleine told me that Sam tried to get you two into counseling," she said.

"He did. Like that was gonna happen!" Gene snorted. He stubbed out his cigarette. "Sam meant well, but Maddy and I… It was just done for. Still, she was the one who had the guts to say when it was over. And the other coppers had a field day when it got out. I hated her for that."

"And now?"

"Now? Now I'm sorry that she and Zoe have to go through all this. I don't hate her anymore. And I have you. That makes up for a lot of things."

Alex put her arms around Gene. "After what Pete – and others -- did," she said, "it took me a long time to trust anyone again. But I trust you."

Gene took her hands and kissed them. He took off his robe and got back under the covers. Alex did the same. They settled into each others' arms and were soon asleep.

**********

The next morning Alex related to Chris, Shaz, and Ray what had happened to Zoe. Shaz was visibly upset by the news and left the room. Chris followed her. Ray stayed at his desk, smoking and scowling. "But the ones who did it. They were caught?" he asked.

"Yes," Alex replied. "By some of the coppers from Fenchurch West."

"Good. Send the little shits to prison. They'll soon find out what it's like to have that done to them!" Ray turned back to his paperwork.

At nine o'clock, Wilkins called Alex into his office to grill her about the row between Gene and his ex-wife. "We can't have domestic situations spilling over into the station!" he ranted. "It's outrageous, especially considering the circumstances!"

Alex sighed. "What circumstances, sir?"

"Don't play the innocent with me, Drake! You know very well what I'm referring to! From what I understand, that woman is carrying on an unnatural relationship with another woman. And then she turns up here, disrupting CID, demanding attention from detectives involved in more important matters than her lovers' squabble – "

That was enough. Alex jumped to her feet. "More important than searching for a woman who had disappeared?! More important than what turned out to be a serial rapist investigation?! Try telling that to the six women who were attacked!" She headed for the door.

"Where do you think you're going?!" Wilkins sputtered. "I've not dismissed you!"

"No, I've dismissed you!" Alex snapped. "You're ridiculous! And if you keep going on about this case as a 'waste of time,' I'll make sure the powers that be at Central know what you think about missing persons and serial rapists." She refrained from slamming the door on the way out, but Alex didn't regret anything she'd said.

**********

Alex had gotten from Madeleine the information about the Bennetts' arrival. She met them at the airport that afternoon and explained the situation. They were devastated by the news of what had happened to their daughter. Yet there was the relief of knowing that Zoe was alive. "She'll get well," Marjory Bennett said. "She has Maddy and her father and me. We'll take care of her."

Over the next week, other cases came in and the team became involved in them. But Alex kept in touch with Madeleine – and Gene kept tabs on Zoe's case. One of the women attacked was willing to see it through to the end. The others were wavering. The detectives – and Gene – were frustrated by their unwillingness to testify. Yet at the same time police understood the emotion toll it took on the women.

**********

Zoe recognized her parents, but the rest of her life was coming back more slowly. The Bennetts wanted to move her to a private hospital, but Madeleine insisted that the less change the better for their daughter. And that the people at the public hospital were taking excellent care of Zoe. The Bennetts settled for a private room so that one of them could be with Zoe at all times. She was still confused and having nightmares and her loved ones didn't want her to be alone.

The next Friday afternoon Gene was coming back from the file room when he saw Madeleine in the hallway. They hadn't seen each other since the night at the hospital, although Alex kept Gene up-to-date on Zoe's progress.

"Hello, Gene," Madeleine said.

"Hello, Maddy."

"How are you?"

"Good. You?"

"Fine."

"How is Zoe?"

"Recovering. Still in pain." Madeleine glanced into CID. "I thought I'd see Alex for a moment."

"She's not here right now," Gene said. "Meeting at Central."

"Oh." Madeleine's eyes wandered between CID and Gene. "I suppose then I'll – "

"Do you want a cup of tea?" Gene asked, surprising both of them.

Madeleine nodded. "That would be nice."

He held the door for her and they entered CID. There weren't many in the room. Chris and Shaz had taken the afternoon off. Other detectives were following up on cases. But upon seeing Gene and Madeleine together, all activity in the room seemed to stop. Gene glared at them and everyone returned to their work. All except Ray. He stood and nodded to Madeleine. "Miss Brown," he said.

"Hello, Ray," she answered.

"I'm sorry," Ray said diffidently. "About your – friend. I hope they lock up the scum and throw away the key."

The statement was amazing coming from Ray Carling. Madeleine said, "Thank you. And I hope so, too." They smiled a little and Ray sat down again.

Gene showed Madeleine into Alex's office and told a WPC to bring them some tea. Bringing Alex's chair to the front of the desk, they both sat down. Madeleine looked around the room.

"Alex has been so kind to us," she said. "And so have you."

It was one of the few times in Gene's life he was at a loss for words. He got a short reprieve as the constable brought in the tea, along with milk and sugar and pink wafers. Someone must have told the young woman about the DI's fondness for them. Gene stirred sugar into his cup while Maddy added milk to hers. He remembered sitting at the table in Manchester while they went through this same routine.

"You know I'd never wish anything like this on Zoe -- or you," he told Madeleine.

"I do know, Gene. Zoe's starting to remember, but she won't tell me anything about it. I told her that she could, but she refuses. I wish she would. I can see how much pain it's causing her."

"Maddy, don't be surprised or hurt if she never tells you. She knows you – you love her. And she loves you. She's trying to spare you. Let her deal with it in her own way."

"But I know what that can do, hiding your feelings. Look what it did to us – with Billy."

Gene put his cup down. "That was different. We lost him together. What Zoe went through… She was alone. Just let her cry on your shoulder – and be there when the nightmares come. Help her feel safe again."

"You're right. How do you know? About the nightmares?"

He shrugged off the question, not wanting to talk about his relationship with Alex. Changing the subject, he asked, "Are you planning to go back to Manchester?"

"Marjory and Stirling want us to stay. Move to London. I think Zoe's considering it. She's been so – damaged by everything. London is where her parents are. Where she grew up and felt secure. But it's also where she was attacked. So she's not sure. As for me… I don't know… Manchester's my home. I was born and raised there. And… I can leave Billy. I just can't! I don't know what to do." Tears slipped from Madeleine's eyes. Gene gave her his handkerchief.

"Billy keeps a part of me there, too," he said. "I go back as much as I can. For him."

"I know. I see when you've left flowers."

"You have?"

"Yes." Madeleine dried her eyes. "Have you taken Alex?"

The question threw Gene. He'd thought about it, but… "No," he replied.

"You should. She's a part of your life."

"Have you ever taken Zoe?"

"Not yet. She won't go unless I check with you first. And I never knew how to tell you." Madeleine blushed. "I thought you'd be furious."

"I probably would have been," he admitted. "But now … Zoe's a part of your life. Take her."

"I will. You know, I used to think that if Billy had lived, we might have had a chance. Then I realized…" Her voice trailed off.

"That's a lot to put on a little kid. No. We were on our way out."

"We did love each other once," Madeleine said, her brown eyes meeting his. Eyes that Billy had inherited.

"Yeah. We did."

"And we had Billy. Something beautiful did come of us being together."

"You were a great mum, Maddy."

"And you were a wonderful dad." She paused. "I'm sorry, Gene. I know I hurt you. And embarrassed you. And for that, I'm truly sorry."

"There was plenty of that on both sides. I'm sorry, too, Maddy."

It was something they'd never really said to each other before now. Something that was too long in coming.

"I'm happy for you, Gene," Madeleine said. "Because I know you're happy. Alex loves you. And you love her. I knew right away. When you saw me that day, you reached for her."

"I didn't – "

"Not with your hand. With your eyes. And your heart. I told her the same thing. You two are always reaching out. Even if you're not in the same room. You're drawn to each other. And the way you were at the hospital. Your love is just – there."

"Well…" Gene found himself slightly embarrassed. If he and Alex were that obvious on the job, others must see it, too. Not knowing how to answer, he changed the subject again. "Things will be all right with you and Zoe. You've got a lot going for you."

"Ta." Madeleine grinned at him. "It's rather funny, you know."

"What?"

"Here we are, two working class kids from Manchester, and we both end up with posh girls from London."

Gene burst out laughing and Madeleine joined in. "That we did, Maddy. That we did."

**TBC**


	14. Faith and Trust

**Author's note: My deepest thanks to everyone reading. And to those who review, alert, and favorite. I'm trying to catch up on doing all those things. My apologies for being so behind. In the meantime, I'm also trying to get this story done before the end (sob!) of A2A. (But like most procrastinators, I work best under pressure. Of course, that's because it's the only way we know to work!)**

**This story is now an alternate universe one. I've no idea where they're going with the series, but I am sure that it will vary greatly from my version. Still, I hope it's enjoyed by everyone.**

**All things "Ashes to Ashes" are the property of BBC, Kudos, etc. All original characters are the products of my own imagination and no resemblance to any person, living or dead, is intended, either through name or personality or actions.**

**Chapter 14**

**Faith and Trust**

DC Ben Owen stood in front of the Superintendent's desk, wishing that Dennis Wilkins would shout, throw things, hit. Anything but this silent anger radiating from his superior's cold eyes.

"What do you mean, he caught you?" Wilkins asked, his voice cold.

"Just that," Owen said. "Hunt knew I was there and waited for me to come by. Figured I was working for you, tailin' him all over town. Warned me off. Said to tell you, to stop followin' an honest copper and meet him face to face. But that you won't because you're afraid." When renewed fury flashed in Wilkins's eyes, Owen added, "Steady on. I didn't say it. He did. I'm just passin' long the message."

"So you're obeying him now," Wilkins observed. "Interesting."

For the first time since he'd gotten tangled up in this mess, Owen was afraid – but not of Gene Hunt. Sure Hunt had twisted his arm and roughed him up. But a man like Hunt was open in his way of dealing with him enemies. It'd be face-to-face. Owen didn't have to worry about Hunt laying for him in an alley some night.

Wilkins was another story. He may not go head-to-head with an enemy, but he'd make sure that person was dealt with. Not that Wilkins would do it himself. No, he'd hire it out. And if Wilkins stayed angry, Owen would have to watch his back.

"I'm not obeyin' anybody," Owen said. "But now that he's seen me, I can't go tailin' him anymore. You'll have to get somebody else."

Wilkins leaned back in his chair. He looked more relaxed, and Owen quietly exhaled, unaware until then that he'd been holding his breath.

"All right," the Superintendent said. "You've done enough. Got some information about Hunt and Drake. That's a matched pair if there ever was one." He waved Owen away. "Go on. And don't come around Fenchurch East again."

Owen hurriedly left the office and was out of the building in seconds. The Superintendent was definitely a nutter, in his opinion. Owen almost felt sorry for Hunt and Drake. He certainly wouldn't want to be on the wrong side Dennis Wilkins.

##########

Wilkins continued to brood at his desk. There had to be some way to be rid of them. His friends at Central were increasingly frustrated with his inability to get the goods on Hunt and Drake. And in the meantime, the two were making friends and building a good reputation among the higher-ups – even as they were displaying more and more insolence and insubordination toward Wilkins himself.

All right. So Hunt spotted Owen following him. Perhaps it was time to back off – for now. Let Hunt think he succeeded. That would give Wilkins time to rethink his strategy. He'd find a way around the solid relationship between Hunt and Drake.

##########

The weeks seemed to fly by. Alex listened to the rain hitting her office window. Early March was living up to its reputation for storms. Made for lovely sleeping but chasing down a blagger in this weather wasn't so enjoyable. Yawning, she decided that it was time for a cup of coffee. Three o'clock in the afternoon was when she was her sleepiest. And she felt especially tired today.

As she walked toward the kitchen, Alex noticed that Gene got up from his desk and followed her in. "Just got off the phone with DCI Jones," he said. "Another one of the women is going to testify against those animals who attacked her and Zoe and the others."

Alex smiled. "I'm glad to hear that." She found the instant coffee and prepared a cup, adding some milk and sugar. "And I spoke with Madeleine a little few minutes ago," she told Gene. "Zoe's remembering more and more and wants to testify, too. Her parents aren't sure about it, but Maddy says that Zoe's determined. They're going back to Manchester in a couple of days, but they'll be down here for the trial."

"Zoe's braver than I gave her credit for. I tell you, Bolls, my hat's off to women. They're the stronger sex."

"Happy to hear you acknowledge it," Alex returned. Then she arched an eyebrow. "What are you up to?"

"Can't I have an honest opinion without you thinking I'm up to something? I'm being truthful here. God knows I've seen enough women go through rough times to know what I'm saying. My mother. Maddy. You. Countless victims." He hesitated just a second before adding quietly, "Annie."

"My apologizes." Alex noticed that Gene appeared uncomfortable mentioning Annie Cartwright Tyler, Sam's widow. And once again she wished that she could get Gene to open up about his friendship with Sam. But it was a subject that still felt off limits. So she let the inclusion of Annie in Gene's comment pass.

Gene took a step closer to her and spoke softly. "The weatherman says rain all weekend. We may just have to stay inside the whole time."

"Sounds lovely," Alex replied. "But I won't be free until Saturday afternoon."

"Why?!"

Alex suppressed a giggle at the offended tone of Gene's voice. "I have a hair appointment," she said. "And then I'm going shopping."

"Shopping?!"

"Oh, stop it. I have to do these things _some _time. And I'm not asking you to come along to hold my purse while I try on clothes."

"Because I wouldn't do it."

"Exactly. I tell you what. Choose a nice place for dinner and I'll buy something you'll love taking off of me."

"Deal."

##########

The weather report was wrong. Skies cleared on Sunday, so Alex and Gene went to the park – along with half of London, it seemed. Alex liked to see the city as it once was, when she was a kid. She was afraid, however, of running into Evan or her younger self while out and about. Alex really didn't know how she'd react.

As they returned to her flat, she suggested they get some takeaway. "I've been so tired the past couple of days. And I want to try that new Thai place."

"Thai? I'll stick with something I know. There's a chippy near there."

On Monday morning, Alex was curled into a ball of misery, groaning and holding her stomach. Gene hurriedly got ready for worked, already planning to tell her to stay put. One look at her face and a check of her temperature sealed it.

"You're staying home, Bolly. That's an order."

"You can't order me about. I outrank you."

"You're quite green about the gills. And you have a fever of 99.6. You're staying put."

"I don't believe you. Give me that thermometer." Alex made an effort to stand up and immediately regretted it. The room teetered back and forth for a few seconds before she sat down. But no sooner had she sat than she had to get up again. "Move!" she desperately ordered Gene out of her way, barely making it to the bathroom in time. Kneeling in front of the toilet, she vomited. Gene followed her. He sat on the edge of the bathtub and held her hair back. From some small part of Alex's brain came the thought, _Greater love hath no man than to hold back the hair of his sick girlfriend._

Finally done, Alex continued to kneel there, wonder if she dared try standing. Gene flushed the toilet, closed the lid, and helped her up to sit on it. He then handed her a cold wet flannel. She wiped her face, then stood to rinse her mouth at the sink.

"Maybe I will stay home," she said weakly.

"Good," was Gene's terse reply. He scooped her up into his arms and carried her back to bed. Alex made no protest this time, grateful to have someone taking care of her. That wouldn't last long. It was Monday morning and Gene was on his way to the station. Alex would be left on her own.

Gene pulled the covers up to her chin, then sat on the edge of the bed. "I told you not to have that Thai food," he said, just a bit smugly.

"But I like Thai," Alex groaned. "At least I did. Not so sure anymore. Maybe it's a virus, if I have a fever. You should be careful."

"I never get sick. Strong constitution." Gene sat a moment longer, frowning as he looked at Alex.

"What?" she asked, knowing that something was on his mind.

"You're not – " He paused. "Could you be pregnant?" he asked, an odd catch in his voice.

Pregnant. Alex considered the question and knew that it wasn't possible. Not right now. However, the look in Gene's eyes, a mixture of hope and fear, and the tone of his voice tugged at her heart. She wished she could say what Gene really wanted to hear. Instead, she told the truth.

"No, I'm sure I'm not pregnant."

Gene nodded, but she saw disappointment in his face. "Well, yeah, it's not likely. You on the Pill and all." He stood and Alex reached for his hand, but he was already halfway to the door.

"Gene?"

"I'll make you some tea before I go." He left the bedroom and went into the kitchen.

Just like that, Gene dropped the subject, and Alex wasn't sure how to bring it up again. She'd never allowed herself to think about any real future with Gene. At least not here in 1983. And right now, feeling like shit on a Monday morning, she couldn't even begin to reason it out.

Slowly, carefully, Alex sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Then she stood, hanging on to the bedside table for support. So far, so good. Another wave of nausea swept over her and she almost sat down again. But no. She stayed on her feet. Picking up her pillow and a blanket, Alex made her way into the living room, nearly colliding with Gene as he exited the kitchen.

"Here, where are you going?" he demanded.

"Sofa," she replied, throwing the pillow on one end and lying down.

Gene set the teapot and mug on the coffee table. "Bed," he countered.

"No." Alex pulled the blanket over her. "Bed is for sleep and sex. Sofa is for illness."

"Are you sure about that?" Gene asked, sitting on the table. "Because we've had a lot of sex on this sofa."

"True enough. But when I was a kid and had to miss school because I was sick," she explained, "I always got to lie on the sofa. It was something special. And I could watch television. Even now when I don't feel well, it feels better than lying in bed."

Smiling a little, Gene leaned over to kiss her on the forehead. "All right, little Alex. You stay here. I got you some tea. I'll send Shaz 'round with something for your ailments. I don't know what you need to take, but she will."

"Okay." Alex was wishing she had something to take right then.

"I'll tell Little Lord Denny you won't be in."

"Okay. I'm going to miss the DCI meeting at Central."

"I'll go in your place. Give 'em a scare."

Alex giggled. "That you will."

##########

_Could you be pregnant?_ Why did he have to ask that? Did he even want another kid?

Gene stood outside the back of Fenchurch East. He dug in his pockets for cigarettes and lit one. Until this morning, he hadn't thought about a child with Alex. Now he couldn't think of anything else.

Ever since Christmas, thoughts of Billy were with Gene. Finally, Gene wasn't afraid of the memories. Madeleine's visit to London made him face more memories. And making peace with his ex seemed to make Gene more aware of the blessing that their son had been – in spite of losing his child when Billy was only four. At that time, he and Madeleine had decided not to have any other children. They were too afraid. Gene was willing to get a vasectomy, but Madeleine insisted to having the sterilization instead. She'd told him that she couldn't face losing another child.

As if Gene could.

Still, he'd not gone through with it. And Madeleine had.

Years went by and Gene didn't think about another kid. Then Jackie Queen had shown up pregnant and put the idea in his head about being a father again. And Gene realized that he liked the idea – in spite of who the mother would be. Then Jackie confessed. Her unborn child wasn't his. She thought the whole thing a great joke, not even caring that it had hurt him.

But Alex. A kid with Alex. That would be…

"Guv!"

Gene snapped out of his daydream of a little girl with hazel eyes. Looking up, he saw Ray at the steps to the station.

"Been lookin' for you, Guv," Ray went on. "Drake's not here."

"Good morning to you, too, Raymundo!" Gene snapped. "And, of course, she's not here! She's called in sick!"

"Well, somebody needs to tell Wilkins. He's been looking for her."

"He can keep his little pink knickers on!" Gene put out his cigarette and climbed the steps. "I'll be into CID as soon as I've calmed Fauntleroy's nerves."

##########

Alex lay quietly, thinking. A baby with Gene Hunt.

In these past few weeks, since their relationship had changed, Alex had wondered if Gene had ever wanted another child. Jackie Queen's cruel lie and "practical joke" that she was pregnant with his child had hurt and humiliated Gene. When Alex expressed to Jackie the opinion that Gene had been looking forward to being a father, the woman had scoffed. But Alex knew better.

If circumstances were different. If they were able to stay together and think about starting a family. But this wasn't her time or place. She belonged in the 21st century with her daughter. And as much as she might like the idea of a life with Gene, a child with Gene, Alex knew that one day she'd have to leave him behind.

She sat up and looked at the watercolor portrait of Molly that Lily O'Hara had done for her. It was framed and hung over the fireplace. Gene had commissioned the picture for her. He understood how much Alex missed her child and thought this would help ease the despair Alex often felt. And it had helped. But there were times, such as now, when Alex was certain that one day she would be forced to choose between Gene and Molly.

Tears coursed down Alex's cheeks and she lay down again, sobbing. It wasn't fair.

When Gene told Wilkins that Alex would not be in that day, the Superintendent simply nodded. But then he narrowed his eyes and smirked a bit. "Did she call you this morning? Or did your information come first hand?" he asked.

"Don't think I like what you're implying," Gene returned.

"Of course. Forgive me." Wilkins continued his sly smile. "I would never impugn DCI Drake's character or reputation. And I hope that you never would, either."

"I think you should keep your own house clean, Denny. Don't want any skeletons rattled."

"You still don't get it, do you, Hunt?" Wilkins said coldly. "You and Drake are the ones under the microscope."

"Scope away!" Gene said, walking toward the door. "All you'll find is a couple of honest coppers." He let the door slam on the way out.

Wilkins glared after him. "We'll see, Hunt."

##########

After seeing to things in CID, Gene pulled Shaz aside. "I've a favor to ask, Shaz," he told her. "Could you go to the chemist and get something for Drake? She – she told me that she's been sick -- some sort of stomach thing -- and she's got a fever. Don't think she has anything to take for it."

"No problem, Sir," Shaz replied. "I think there must be something going around. My mum was sick this weekend. I know what to get."

"You're a good girl, Shaz." He took out his wallet. "You think a tenner will cover it?"

"Sure, Guv."

##########

Alex's morning didn't get much better. She called Wilkins who said tersely that Gene had passed along the information that she was sick. That done, she managed to sip a little tea, but the full effects of the virus kept her nauseous and in some pain from stomach cramps – and making regular trips to the bathroom. It was one of those days she was glad to be alone. But she really needed some medications and was thinking about going to the chemist on her own.

Before she could make up her mind, there was a knock at the door. Alex wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and answered. Shaz stood on the other side, paper bags in hand. "Morning, Ma'am," she greeted. "The Guv sent me to get you some things."

Gene remembered. Alex was reminded again why she loved him. "Thank you," she said gratefully. "Come in."

For the next few minutes, Shaz played mother hen, getting Alex to take the medication and making a fresh pot of tea. "You know what you need?" Shaz asked. Not waiting for Alex to respond, she went on. "You need to take a shower. Not too hot, of course. But it'll make you feel better."

"That's a good idea," Alex said.

"And I'll put some fresh sheets on your bed and you can take a nap." Shaz moved in the direction of the bedroom.

_This is nice,_ Alex thought. _So good of Shaz to go the extra bit and –_

The bedroom. The WDC would see that two people had occupied that bed the night before. Alex got up and hurried after Shaz. By the time she got there, Shaz had already removed the duvet.

"Shaz," Alex began, then went blank. What was she supposed to say? The rumpled sheets and impressions in both pillows said it all.

The young woman looked at Alex. "Ma'am?" Then she followed Alex's gaze to the bed. Shaz smiled. "No worries, Ma'am," she said.

"You won't say anything, will you, Shaz?" Alex asked.

"Of course not."

"And when you tell Chris, you'll tell him not to say anything to anyone?"

Shaz laughed and Alex joined in. "Of course," Shaz said. "Really, Ma'am, no worries. Besides, it's not as if – well, that is – everyone knows how you feel about each other."

"Perhaps," acknowledged Alex. "But with Wilkins looking for anything against us…"

"Don't fret. You go lie down again and I'll have things tidied up here in no time."

"Thank you. You're an angel."

"And you're my guardian angel. Now go on."

##########

Gene went to the DCI meeting at Central. It felt like old times and many of the DCIs present welcomed him back. Like most meetings, it went on too long and he was anxious to get back to Fenchurch East – and to call Alex.

Finally, close to noon, the DCIs were dismissed. Gene got downstairs and outside.

And there it was again. The sensation of begin followed. Every curse in his vocabulary went through his mind. He thought he'd finished that after his run-in with Wilkins's man Owen. Yet Gene knew someone was there. He could _feel_ it. Without turning his head, he looked to his right, out the corner of his eye.

Yes. Just on the edges of his vision. Someone was there. Someone – short?

Turning his head quickly, Gene saw no one on the street. At least no one who could possibly be after him. He scanned the area. His follower wasn't there.

Mentally shaking himself, he made his way to the Quattro. The edgy feeling of being tailed was gone. Whoever was doing this was bloody good at the job.

Getting in the car, Gene took a minute to light a cigarette – smoking wasn't allowed during the DCI meeting – and take the radio from the glove compartment. He radioed to Ray that he was on his way back to the station and started the engine. Before he could pull away, however, the radio crackled to life again.

"Female! Mid-30s with gunshot wound to head! Alpha Victor Lima One! Urgent medical assistance required!"

Gene felt a chill run down his spine. _What the – ?_ He didn't recognize the voice, but something about the call bothered him. Maybe it was the tone of the man's voice. Maybe it was the message itself.

Maybe it was because Alex was a female in her mid-30s.

Bolly.

Killing the engine, Gene jumped out of the car and ran back into Central. He used the phone at the front desk to call Alex's number.

Three – four – five rings. "Come on," Gene muttered. Six – seven – eight. If she hadn't answered by then, she wasn't going to.

Back to the Quattro. And even though he felt like a fool, Gene raced through the streets, breaking every traffic rule that he dared to get back to Alex's flat. He ran up the stairs and to her door. "Bolly!" he called, even before getting the door open. "Bolly!"

Alex appeared from the bedroom, wrapped in his blue robe, her hair in a towel. "Gene? What are you doing here? What's wrong?"

Her face was pale and her hazel eyes wide with fright. Gene suddenly felt guilty for barging in and scaring her. "I just – I called and you didn't answer."

"Just now? At the door? You didn't give me a chance."

"No. On the phone. You didn't answer."

"I was in the shower." Alex continued to stare at him. "What's wrong? Is it the team?"

"No."

"Then what? You came bursting in here as if the place was on fire."

Alex clearly was still frightened and confused. Now Gene truly felt like an idiot. Why would he get so worried over a police radio call like that? It had nothing to do with Alex. The only reason Gene could figure was his feeling of still being followed. Bastard Wilkins was making him paranoid.

"There – there was a call over police radio about – " He quickly decided not to tell her everything. "A woman in her 30s needing urgent medical assistance. And with you being sick and you didn't answer…"

Still giving him that quizzical look, Alex said, "Well, it wasn't me."

"Right." Gene looked around and then back to Alex.

"Gene – "

"How are you feeling?" he asked, cutting her off, not wanting her to ask any more questions.

"Better," Alex replied. "Shaz brought some medicines and food. I'm still knackered, though. As soon as I dry my hair, I'm going to lie down again."

"Good. You need to rest."

Alex caught his eye and put her hand on his arm. Gene considered telling her exactly what he had heard. But what would he say? _Wilkins is having me followed and that's making me afraid for you because I don't trust that twat! _No. He'd just leave as soon as he could.

But that was easier said than done. Because all he wanted at the moment was to hold on to Alex as long as he could.

"There's one thing you should know," Alex said. "Shaz insisted on straightening up a bit and saw the bed."

At first Gene didn't follow, then he understood. "And she saw that you didn't spend the night alone," he said.

"Yes. She didn't seem surprised."

"Of course, she wasn't surprised, Bolly. She's one of the best detectives on the team. I'm sure everyone's twigged by now."

"I'm sure they have," Alex conceded. "I just thought you should be aware."

They were back on more familiar ground now. Gene nodded. "Shaz is a good girl. She won't say anything." He gazed into Alex's eyes a moment longer, not really wanting to leave. Finally he took her in his arms.

"Be careful. If I do have a virus, you'll get it," Alex warned.

"If I haven't gotten it by now, I never will. Besides, I told you I never get sick." Gene kissed her forehead and then pulled away. "You lie down and take care of yourself. And don't go anywhere."

Alex smiled. "Where would I go?"

Gene returned the smile and move toward the door. But as he stepped out of the flat, he took another look at his Bolly. "Just – just don't go anywhere without me." He closed the door behind him.

##########

As he went downstairs, Gene tried to shake off the feeling of something just being wrong. It didn't work very well. He'd no sooner set foot on the street when the sense of being watched returned. This time he tamped down the annoyance and worry and just concentrated on "feeling" the person tailing him.

There was no impression of danger. Of that Gene was certain. Whoever was there meant no harm. In fact, all Gene could feel was – sadness and fear. Slowly, he looked out of the corner of his eyes. Someone was there. And then they were gone.

Gene ran toward the station and up the steps to the entrance. Everyone scattered, seeing the look of fury in the Guv's face. Reaching Wilkins's office, Gene stormed in. Dennis Wilkins glanced up from his paperwork and did a double take as Gene approached the desk. Jumping to his feet, Wilkins shouted, "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, coming into my office like that?!"

Gene mentally gave the other man credit for the first move. But he quickly countered, "What the bloody hell are _you_ doing having me followed?! First Owen. I got him sorted. Now you've sent some other poor sod!"

Instead of being embarrassed or guilty, Wilkins was annoyingly unconcerned. "Oh. That," he said calmly, sitting down and picking up a pen. "I won't deny having Owen follow you. It was deemed necessary – "

"Necessary?! By who?!"

"It was deemed necessary," Wilkins went on, ignoring the question, "because of your behavior. Your past actions – such as roughing up suspects -- have warranted closer present supervision. Sooner or later, you're going to do something that will endanger the lives of innocent bystanders. Owen was just to keep an eye on things."

Placing his hands flat on the desktop, Gene leaned over Wilkins, who avoided his glare. "Owen was to get something on me. And I told you this morning that all anyone would find is an honest cop."

Finally Wilkins met Gene's eyes. "A cop who seems to spend an inordinate amount of time at his superior's flat."

Gene knew he shouldn't let the comment get to him – but it did. "You leave Drake out of it," he growled. "This is between you and me."

"I'm only trying to maintain discipline, Hunt. Something you know very little about."

"You've no idea how much discipline I'm maintaining right this minute." Gene straightened up. "Call off your watchdog, Denny. Now."

"There is no watchdog," Wilkins said. "I only sent Owen. If someone else is following you now, it's nothing to do with me."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not. Maybe you should figure who else you've offended lately – although the list may run long. Are you sure your ex-wife isn't having some of her lesbian friends following you? Some of those 'ladies' are quite substantial."

"Now you're just pathetic," sneered Gene. "When I catch this one, I'll drag him back to you. Then we'll have another little chat about your obsession with my life. And how I might cure you of it!"

##########

Alex dried her hair, donned fresh pajamas, and heated some of the broth that Shaz had brought. She sat on the sofa and tried to eat a little. Daytime television had little to interest her, so she finally turned off the set. In the quiet, Alex's thoughts turned to Gene. His rushing home to check on her just didn't seem right. Why was he so worried?

_Just don't go anywhere without me._

She couldn't get that last sentence out of her mind. It was an odd thing for Gene to say. But it brought back to her the same subject she'd brooded over that morning. _What happens when – if -- I do go? Will Gene still be here? Or will this place stop existing?_

Exhausted, Alex put aside the broth and lay down. Even trying to figure out the universe and her own life wasn't enough to keep her awake. She felt herself drifting off.

A man's voice woke her. A comforting voice that, even half-awake, she recognized as Gene's. Alex opened her eyes, looking about for him, but he wasn't in the room. He was on the television.

She sat up. Yes, it was definitely Gene's voice, although he face wasn't visible. Only his arms and chest. He was holding a book and Alex quickly realized that he was reading aloud to someone. Someone whose face could not be seen, but who lay very still in bed. It was _her_! Gene was reading to Alex as she lay in hospital in 2008! She was absolutely certain of it!

The Gene on the television read aloud. "'Mr. Conagher? I think you should come home. I … we need you.' He pulled out a small handful of notes. 'You wrote these, didn't you?' 'I was lonely. I had to talk … write to somebody, and there was no one.' 'There was. There was me.'" Gene then put the book down and reached for the hand of the woman in bed. "Come home, Alex," he said softly. "We need you."

The television went to static.

Alex was up and across the room, kneeling in front of the set. "No! I need to know!" She sat back on her heels. "Of course!" Alex said. "You're there! You're there with Molly! I saw you!" Laughing, she returned to the sofa and lay down again. "You're there," she repeated quietly.

##########

The afternoon seemed to drag by for Gene. There was too much on his mind that he couldn't settle. What if Wilkins was telling the truth? That he didn't send someone else to follow Gene?

By six o'clock Gene was tired and only wanted to go home. He thanked Shaz for all she'd done for Alex that morning. Then he went to Luigi's for takeaway and headed upstairs, not caring if anyone saw.

Alex met him at the door, still in her pajamas, but looking much better. In fact there was more color in her cheeks and her eyes sparkled. "You look happy," Gene told her as he put the containers of food on the stove.

"I am," Alex replied.

"Feel up to real food? I had Luigi send his mildest stuff. Linguine with butter and something." At the mention of food, Alex turned pale again. "I guess not," Gene continued.

"No. I think I'll stick with tea. Maybe some dry toast. But I appreciate the thought." She smiled again. "The most amazing, wonderful thing happened this afternoon." Taking Gene's hand, she led him into the living room and sat him on the sofa. Alex sat beside him.

"Do you remember," she began, "when I got out of hospital, I told you about seeing you in 2008?"

_Good God!_ Gene thought. _I was hoping she was past this!_ "Yeah, I remember," he said aloud. "All about you're from the future and all."

A little of the sparkle left Alex's eyes and Gene wondered if his expression gave away his skepticism. Usually he concentrated on a good poker face. Must be tired. He took her hand. "Go on," he said.

"Well…" Alex hesitated. "I told you I'm from the future and that I was shot and woke up here. And that, sometimes, I'd see or hear sort of messages from 2008. Sometimes on the television." Gene nodded. "And when you – when I was shot here, I returned there for just a bit and saw you. In 2008. And Molly knew you."

"Yeah, I remember." And Gene remembered something else. "You asked me to tell them not to give up on you."

"Yes." The little bit of happiness completely left Alex's eyes now. "I also asked you to look after Molly if – in case I don't – "

"Bolly." He stroked her cheek. "You're gonna be fine," he said, not knowing what else he _could_ say. What he even believed.

Alex leaned into his embrace. "I think I am. You see – " She smiled and the brightness came back to her face – and there were tears in her eyes. "This afternoon, I saw you again. On the television. It wasn't the first time. I'd almost forgotten that I saw you with Molly there once. But this time, I heard your voice. You were at my bedside – in 2008. I'm still in a coma there. You were reading to me. And you held my hand, just as you're doing now." She swallowed hard. "And you asked me to come back to you.

"You're there, Gene. You're there. Waiting for me. I know this still sounds insane, but – " She squeezed his hand. " – but to know that you can be there for me – for Molly, too -- it means so much to me."

What was he supposed to do? As much as he wanted to go along with her, Gene understood that he had to be the voice of reason. "Alex, are you sure that you didn't just dream this?"

She sat back, looking a bit hurt. "You don't believe me," she said. Then she nodded. "I can't say that I blame you very much. I'm just asking you to have some faith. Listen. You were reading to me from a paperback book. I don't know what the title was, but there was a woman asking a man to come home. Then the man took bits of paper from his pocket and asked if she wrote them. She said she was lonely and there was no one. And he said – "

"'There was me,'" Gene finished, almost without being aware he was saying it. _Conagher._ One of his favorite L'Amour books. A lonely cowhand with no home. A woman with two children, feeling alone and scared. And notes in the wind addressed to no one. There always seemed to be a romance in a western. _Conagher_ was one of the best.

Excitement shone in Alex's face. "You know it!" she exclaimed.

Stunned, Gene sat back. "I – it sounds like a book by Louis L'Amour. _Conagher_."

"Yes! That was what the woman in the book called the man! 'Mr. Conagher!'"

Gene got up from the sofa. "You must've read it sometime, Alex. You read Westerns."

Alex blushed. "Uh, not really, no."

"But you have the books."

"I only have four or five. I – I got them to try understanding you a little better." Her voice trailed off.

Gene folded his arms. Maybe they could move away from the topic of the future. "So it was my influence," he smirked.

"Yes," Alex sighed. "Happy?"

"Yeah," replied Gene. "I am. Did you like 'em? _Riders of the Purple Sage _and _Sackett_?"

"Yes. They're very good." Alex stood. "But for the record, I watched Western movies before I met you."

"What's your favorite?"

"You already know that. _High Noon_." Alex reached for Gene's hands. "But you do see, don't you?" she asked. "That you're there, with me, in 2008. I don't know if you're 45 or 70, but you're there."

Once again, Gene was at a loss for words. Finally, he said again, "You're sure it wasn't a dream?"

He could feel Alex drawing away from him emotionally, even before she pulled her hands away. She held his gaze for a moment, and Gene watched the excitement and hope leave her face. Her lips pressed together tightly before she turned away.

"You're probably right," Alex said. "I was probably asleep."

A wave of guilt washed over Gene. He walked toward the kitchen. "I'll heat up some soup for you."

"Thanks."

_It's insane_, Gene thought as he waited for the broth to warm. _She can't be from the future. She didn't see me on the television. She needs to get over this._ At the same time, he was worried. What if Alex _never_ got over it? Was she going to spend the rest of her life believing in the impossible? Maybe she needed some professional help.

He went to the entry of the living room. Alex stood in front of the fireplace, looking at the portrait of Molly that hung on the wall over it. Gene used to wonder if Molly was real. But the portrait made the child _feel_ real -- even to him. There were times he could see her in mind's eye.

Alex reached out to the picture, lightly tracing the curve of her daughter's face. At the same time, she held the anchor pendant on the necklace Gene gave her for Christmas. She missed Molly. Alex longed for the sound of her laughter, the way Molly's mouth turned down when she was disappointed or angry, the way her blue eyes would shine with excitement for the smallest of reasons. And holding her child again was almost beyond Alex's hopes.

_Gene really doesn't believe me_, she thought. _But I know what I saw. He's there. He'll be there for me – and Molly._

_##########_

The evening passed quietly -- and a little awkwardly. They watched some television. When they did talk, it was about work. Nothing personal. The earlier conversation about the future might just as well have never happened.

Gene gave Alex a report on the DCI meeting. "I need to go back to work tomorrow," Alex said.

"Stay home. You're still not a hundred percent."

"I'll stay at my desk. See how I do." Alex got up from the sofa. "I think I'll go on to bed."

"It's barely 9:00," Gene said.

"The way I feel, it might as well be midnight." She was quiet for a moment. "Are you coming?" she asked.

"Later. I'll watch the news."

"All right." Alex went on to the bedroom.

_Since when do I turn down a chance to go to bed with her?_ Gene wondered. But he knew the answer. Things seemed to be changing between them. He wanted to blame Wilkins's little games with their lives. Yet Gene knew the problem was deeper. Alex's preoccupation with this future business. One day she might completely lose her grip on reality. Then what? She asked for his trust, same as he asked for hers. But how could he give over to a fantasy? Even if it did have the lovely face of a little girl named Molly?

##########

_He was wearing his old camel coat and standing by the water. Sam's empty, wrecked car lay near him. Sam was gone. His friend. His best mate. Then, out of nowhere, Sam was there, standing next to him._

"You're back,"_ Sam said._

"So are you," _Gene replied. _"Thought you'd gone. Left me."

_Sam burst out laughing. _"Left you? How can I leave when you never let go? The Gene Genie will be worshipped!"

"Sod off!"

"Temper." _Sam looked out over the water. _"You keep coming back here. Over and over again. Think it'll change? That you can fix what went wrong?" _Gene didn't answer, didn't look at his old friend. Sam went on. _"The problem is, Gene, you want to think it all ended here. But it didn't."

_They were in The Railway Arms, sitting at their old table in the corner, glasses of scotch in front of them. Nelson was behind the bar, watching a football match between City and United. The score was tied 0 – 0. No one else was around._

_Sam placed his hands on the table. _"This is where it ended," _he said_. "This is where it went wrong. This is where faith and trust died." _He leaned close. _"And you know that," _he whispered._ "You know that as well as you know who's really following you around."

_Gene was standing on the street outside Luigi's. The street was empty. There was only him – and the person following him. The person he could see out of the corner of his eye. Gene turned his head slowly, knowing that he would finally get a clear look at whoever was there. But he wasn't quite fast enough and he was only left with the impression of someone small with brown hair._

Gene sat up, his heart racing in his chest. It took him a second to figure where he was. Sofa. Living room. Alex's flat.

He'd fallen asleep. It was a dream. Just a dream. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his head in his hands. _Sam._

"Gene?"

He sat up as Alex came into the room. "Yeah?"

She sat next to him. "I heard you call out. Bad dream?" she asked, her arm going across his shoulders.

"Yeah. Sorry I woke you."

If she was tempted to ask about the dream, Alex knew not to by now. Instead, she rested her head on his shoulder. "Come to bed," she murmured.

"I will." He stood and offered her a hand up. She took it and they went to the bedroom. "I'm gonna get a shower first," Gene said. "You go on back to bed."

"All right."

Gene stood under the hot spray of water. He didn't believe in ghosts, but sometimes he had to wonder if Sam was haunting him. While he'd had other dreams about Sam, this one shook Gene. He tried to dismiss it, but some things…

It was after midnight when he crawled into bed beside Alex. She was asleep but roused herself when she felt him. She snuggled close, and Gene breathed in the scent of her hair and skin. In every way, Alex was the woman he'd always longed for – and she loved him in return. What would happen to him if she ever left?

TBC…

**A/N: _Conagher_ by Louis L'Amour truly is a very romantic book and I recommend it for anyone who'd like to try a Western novel.**


	15. Heartbroken

**Updated Author's note: Many thanks to readers and reviewers and to those who alert and favorite. It's hard to express how appreciative I am. Special thanks to Amlyn, Katie Duggan's Niece, and theHuntgoeson.**

**This story is nearing its end. After this chapter, there is perhaps only one more. I hope to start another story soon after "Repercussions" is done. It will follow up on the developments in both "Aftershock" and "Repercussions." It will likely be done long after series 3 is finished (whimper!), and I'm sure it will vary greatly from the official resolution.**

**There are a few things in this chapter I'd like to make note of. The movie that Alex and Gene go to was released in 1983, but I've no idea if it was playing in London in March of that year. And the comment Gene makes about _The Thin Man_ is a line in both the book and the movie – and it just seems perfect for Gene Hunt.**

**This story is now an alternate universe one. I've no idea where they're going with the series, but I am sure that it will vary greatly from my version. Still, I hope it's enjoyed by everyone.**

**All things "Ashes to Ashes" are the property of BBC, Kudos, etc. All original characters are the products of my own imagination and no resemblance to any person, living or dead, is intended, either through name or personality or actions.**

**Chapter 15**

**Heartbroken**

To Gene's great relief, Alex didn't mention the future or visions or even Molly again for the next few days. To his amusement, she got quite annoyed that he didn't catch the virus from her, even though it swept through Fenchurch East. "I told you, Bolly," he said. "Strong constitution."

Still, Gene felt that the topic of the future was never far from Alex's thoughts. He would see her looking sadly at Molly's portrait and wished he could do more to ease her longing.

##########

The weather was unseasonably cool for the last weekend of March, with freezing rain in the forecast. Friday evening found Alex and Gene at his flat. Alex shivered against the chill of the room and she pulled the blanket over herself and Gene. They lay on the bed, still sort of wrapped around each other. Glancing around the room, she started giggling. Their clothes were strewn everywhere. It was one of those evenings when they were lucky enough to make it through the front door, much less to the bedroom.

"My god!" she giggled. "Sometimes we're like kids! Can't keep our hands off each other!"

"Usually when we've had a row at work," Gene added, tucking the blanket closer around them.

"I suppose we should at least get between the sheets."

"Why?"

"You're right. Why?" Alex rolled to her side to face him. "I love when it's like this."

Gene settled on his side, too, meeting the hazel eyes. "Like what?"

"Wild. Out of control."

"Wild and out of control is right. I'm got the scratches and bites to prove it. You're dangerous when worked up, Bolly."

"I've got a few of those myself," Alex said. "But I'm not complaining."

"Neither am I," Gene assured her. "I treasure every mark."

Alex grinned. "And as for getting worked up," she said, running a finger along his jaw, "you do have a remarkable ability to do that to me. Like no one ever has."

"We're matched there." He kissed her softly only to have her nip at his lower lip. "Ow!" Gene yelped, pulling back a little. "Mind what you're doing?"

"I thought you treasured every mark," Alex teased.

"I do. But I remind you that these lips do things that you like very much! I think you drew blood!"

"Oh, don't be such a baby," Alex said. She gently touched his lip with her thumb. "I did not. However, you're quite right about that lovely lip service you provide, most recently about a half hour ago. Therefore, I apologize and will be more careful in future."

"All right then." Gene once again drew her into his arms and rolled onto his back, taking Alex with him. She put her head on his chest.

"Do you think we'll be at Ray and Teresa's wedding before the end of the year?" she asked.

"God!" Gene exclaimed. "Why do women do that?"

"What?"

"Here we are, naked, having just shagged like a couple of randy teenagers in the backseat of a car, and you start talking about some other couple! I've never understood why women do that!"

"All right," Alex sighed. "Let's talk about your feelings."

"Yeah, I wouldn't be surprised if Ray and Teresa get married soon," Gene said quickly.

Alex poked him in the ribs. "I knew it! Why do men do that? Why hide your feelings?"

"Because I have no feelings about Ray and Teresa," Gene said flatly.

Pulling away, Alex sat up against the pillows. "I'm serious, Gene," she said. "I admit I'm torn about the whole thing. We're working to keep the team together, but it's inevitable that we'll drift apart. And really they're _your_ team. That must bother you a little."

Gene gave up trying to put off Alex's questions. She was, after all, a woman. And women just had to ask these things, whether they had psychotwattery degrees or not. He moved up to lean against the pillows as she was doing.

"All right, Bolls. First of all, let's not get ahead of ourselves. Ray, Chris, even Shaz. Yeah, they'll move on. So will the others. It's life. I'll miss working with them. But I'd be a pretty poor excuse for a boss if I never wanted them to move forward. And so would you."

Alex held his gaze for a moment, then nodded. "You're right," she said. "This'll be Ray's first marriage, won't it?"

And in the manner of women, she had changed the subject. As much as he loved her and loved that she wasn't like any other woman he'd ever known before, Gene was often surprised by how _much_ she was like every other woman he'd ever known.

"Yeah," he answered. "He was living with a girl a few years ago. Caught her in bed with her old boyfriend. He was determined to stay single after that. Like I said, Teresa must be something special to make him change his mind."

"Poor Ray! I didn't know!"

"Don't let on to him that you do now."

"I won't. But he's in his late 30s. Chris waited until his 30s, too. How old were you when you got married?"

"Twenty-nine. Closer to thirty. You?"

"Twenty-one."

"You were just a kid!" Gene got a cigarette from the pack on his bedside table. Lighting it, he said, "You haven't talked much about Pete."

"Where's my robe?" Alex asked, getting out of bed.

Gene laughed shortly. "Now who's avoiding their feelings?" he returned.

Alex found her robe hanging on the inside of the closet door. She slipped it on and moved to open the bedroom window a little. Standing there a moment longer, she could feel Gene's eyes on her. Talking about Pete would mean talking about the future. And that was a subject they were avoiding.

"Bolly?" Alex could detect a note of concern in Gene's voice. He went on. "Pete didn't hurt you, did he?"

Of course the cop in Gene went for worst case scenario. Alex hurried to dissuade him of those thoughts. "No," she said, turning to face him. "Pete never hurt me. Not physically." She got back in bed and pulled the blanket over her legs. "But he was… Pete wanted the fun of marriage and couldn't deal with the realities. You're right. We were kids. But Pete didn't want to grow up. He wanted us to be free. Couldn't understand why I wanted to be a cop. Thought we could live on my inheritance. He talked about living in France and writing the great novel which never saw the light of day! But I loved him. I'd been in love with him from the time I was nineteen and I couldn't face the fact that he was never going to grow up."

Alex felt her throat tighten as the memories brought back the pain of that time and the anger it still caused. She always felt a bit stupid in that regard. A psychologist who couldn't deal with her own emotions. "But all that means nothing when compared to his walking out on Molly and me." Alex vision dimmed as tears filled her eyes and slipped down her cheeks. "She was six months old. Six months! And her father walked out on us! When I got pregnant, he put on a good show of wanting to be a father. He'd get the book written and I could quit work. And then it became, 'I'll stay home with Molly while you go to work. And I can write.' But he would take her to Bryan and Marjorie's home and leave her while he went out with his equally immature friends!"

Gene got up to get a clean handkerchief from the chest of drawers. He gave it to her and got back in bed, putting an arm around her shoulders. Alex dried her eyes and blew her nose. "I don't know what I would've done without Marjorie and Bryan. They loved their son, of course, but they were so ashamed of him. They kept Molly while I was at work. People always want to complain about their in-laws. Mine were the most wonderful people imaginable. They adored Molly and she felt the same way. Bryan even did a beautiful painting of her when she was four. One of the last he did.

"Pete never really learned. Even on Molly's last birthday, when she turned twelve, he didn't send her a card or present or anything. He sent an email saying he was in Canada with his latest. Judy." Alex sneered the name of Pete's girlfriend. "At least she's nearer his age than most of them. Usually he goes for the twenty-somethings."

During her story, Alex had avoided Gene's eyes. Now she met them, seeing compassion and sympathy in their silver-blue depths. She put her arms around him and rested her head on his strong shoulder. "And that's the story of Alex and Pete," she said. "Subtitled 'A Failed Marriage.'"

Gene stroked her hair. "Email?" he asked.

"Electronic mail. Sent over – " The Internet might be difficult to explain, so Alex said instead, " – over a computer."

If that confused him, Gene didn't let on. "How could a real man ignore his child's birthday?" he growled.

"I don't know. I've stopped trying to figure out Pete. Molly seems to take it as a matter of fact, but I know it does hurt her."

"And Bryan and Marjorie were his parents?"

"Yes. Bryan died seven years ago and Marjorie three." Alex sighed. "Molly's seen too much of death at her age."

"I'm sorry Pete is such a rotter," Gene said. There were a few seconds before he added, "Bryan and Marjorie Drake." It wasn't a question.

"Yes." Alex waited for something more from him. Some acknowledgment of the Drakes being the couple he had met over a year ago when Alex and Gene investigated the robbery at the Drakes' home. And that he had met the fourteen-year-old Pete, a boy who would grow up to break Alex's heart.

But Gene said nothing more. He continued to stroke her hair and kiss her forehead.

##########

They had fallen into a pattern of where they stayed at night. Weeknights were spent at Alex's flat. Much easier after a late night at Luigi's to just climb the stairs. Weekends were at Gene's place. And Alex was pleased that he usually cooked breakfast for them. This Saturday morning was no exception. They had a late breakfast of eggs, bacon, tomato, and lots of toast and then went shopping for groceries. Slowly Alex was getting Gene to eat more vegetables, stressing the benefits of a balanced diet. He continued literally to drag his feet where exercise was concerned. Sometimes he would lose his temper. "My grandfather lived to the ripe old age of 84! My grandmother was 90 when she passed! Minds as sharp as ever! You can't improve on genes like that!" So Alex would back off for a while.

The clouds had gathered over the city and a cold drizzly rain kept them indoors for the afternoon. Alex wanted to take a walk, but Gene balked at the idea of it. He sat at one end of the sofa, his long legs stretched out, taking up most of the seating area, reading the newspapers while she examined his bookshelves.

"Don't you have anything to read besides Westerns?" Alex finally asked.

"Dashiell Hammett. Raymond Chandler. James Cain. Winston Churchill," he replied.

"Oh. Of course. No classics?"

Gene scowled at her. "They're _all_ classics!"

"My apologies," Alex smirked.

"Cheeky. Why are you looking at books anyway? When you have me for company? Don't tell me you're already tired of our love life. Do I have to buy a copy of _Kama Sutra_ to keep you interested?"

"Now that I'd like to see. Gene Hunt, referring to a sex manual."

"It's not a manual. Just a book of suggestions for people with no imagination." He pulled her onto the sofa with him and she sat with her back against his chest. "Not that I've noticed either of us lacking in that," he continued, murmuring into her ear.

"I find you highly inspirational," she purred.

"So why are you checking out the reading material?" Gene asked, nibbling her ear and nuzzling the soft skin down the side of her neck. Damn! the man knew how to get to her every time!

"I don't know," she admitted. "I'm still getting to know you."

He continued the delicious assault on her neck. "You've seen every bit of me, Bolly. Shouldn't be any surprises left."

"I'm talking about your mind." It was getting more difficult to ignore Gene's persistence.

"I lost that a long time ago," he murmured. "Just about the time a long-legged brunette in a short skirt walked into my life."

Alex laughed softly. Gene had a way of making her feel silly and sexy at the same time. She tilted her head back a bit and kissed him. They continued this lovely activity until Gene spoke again. "Why does my mind interest you? You playing psychologist all of a sudden?"

Alex went on with her nuzzling, moving along his jaw and to the cute cleft in his chin. "Never mind," she said between kisses.

"Why are you so interested in what I read?"

"Why aren't you interested in finishing what you started?"

"Who says I'm not? But now you've got me curious." Gene pulled away a little. "What's wrong with Westerns?"

Really! The man was exasperating! "I give up," she sighed, turning away and resting against his chest again. "There's nothing wrong with Westerns. L'Amour and Grey are great."

"You should read _True Grit_ by Portis_._ You'd like that one. About a teenage girl."

"And Rooster Cogburn. I saw the movie." Alex lowered her voice. "'Fill your hands, you son-of-a-bitch!'"

Gene burst out laughing and Alex joined in. "You do have good taste, Bolly," he said. "Let's go rent a copy to watch tonight."

"Sounds good. But we also have to get something that's not a Western."

"Such as?"

"I don't know." She glanced again at the bookshelves. "How about _The Thin Man_? You like Hammett."

"_The Maltese Falcon_ would suit me better. But I like Nick Charles. He and I have something in common."

"How so?"

"We both have a weakness for lanky brunettes with wicked jaws."

##########

The rain started coming down harder, so Gene suggested they wait until it had passed before going to the video store. "Hungry, Bolls?" he asked, walking into the kitchen. "I'm gonna make a ham sandwich."

"Extra mustard on mine," Alex called after him. She picked up his discarded newspaper and turned to the cinema listings. If the videos they wanted weren't available, maybe they could go out.

The ad caught her eye immediately and she yelled for Gene.

"What?" he demanded as he came into the living room. "What's wrong?"

Alex was kneeling on the sofa. She held up the paper. "_The Man from Snowy River_," she said breathlessly.

"What?" Gene repeated.

"_The Man from Snowy River_," Alex said more slowly, sitting back on her heels. "It's one of my favorite films. I haven't seen it on the big screen since I was – well, since it came out -- which is now! We have to go! Tonight!"

Gene took in the excitement on Alex's face – and tried to ignore the comment about her seeing the film before. After the talk about her ex and Alex giving him the name Peter Drake – just like the kid they'd met a year ago -- Gene already worried about her. Things had calmed down since Monday and he was hoping that the whole business of the future was at rest. Now it was coming back full force.

Putting aside his misgivings, Gene decided to go along with her for the time being. He sat beside her on the sofa. "What's it about?" he asked.

If possible, Alex's eyes lit up even more. "It's about a young man who lives in the mountains and has to prove he's worthy of living there so he goes to the lowlands to work on a cattle ranch –"

"It's a Western?"

"Yes! Well, sort of. Not the usual Western. It's set in Australia, a few years after the gold rush. And Jim – the young man – he starts working on the ranch and of course the rancher has a beautiful daughter and there's a mob of wild horses and they have to round them up – "

"Jim and the rancher's daughter?"

"No, all the ranch hands and it's so exciting when they're chasing down the mob and I know you'll like it." Alex grabbed his arm like a little kid. "We've got to go tonight!"

"How do you know so much about it?" Gene asked. "Is it based on a book or something?"

"I told you. I saw it. Begged Evan to take me. My best friend Marianne went with us. We both loved it. And it's based on a poem by Banjo Paterson."

"A poem? You don't base a Western movie on a poem!"

"This one you do." She became quiet for a moment. "I know I'm going on, but it would be a treat to see it again on the big screen."

Gene couldn't see how it would hurt. And they might have a great time. "What time does it start?"

##########

_The Man from Snowy River _turned out to be a really good film. Gene enjoyed it a lot – and he liked seeing Alex's reaction to it. She was like a kid, eyes wide with excitement. But one thing bothered him. At certain moments in the movie, Alex would clasped him arm or hold his hand. A couple of times she whispered, "Watch." And then something spectacular would happen.

How did she know?

Gene had learned long ago that Alex liked to stay through the end credits. So as the lights came up and _Waltzing Matilda_ played, they sat still while most of the audience filtered out. "Well?" Alex asked. "What do you think? Did you like it?"

He grinned at her. "I did. Not exactly a traditional Western, but a good story. Really liked that roundup and when Jim goes after the horses. That was worthy of John Ford."

Alex propped her elbow on the armrest and leaned closer. "And the love story?"

"Very Ford worthy."

She slipped an arm around his neck and gave him a lingering kiss. Gene responded, not caring who might be watching.

The credits were finally done and they went to the lobby. Alex nodded toward the restrooms. "Need to visit the ladies'," she said. "Be right back."

"I'm goin' outside for a fag," he told her. "Looks like the rain stopped."

"All right."

Gene went out to the crowded pavement and searched his pockets only to find that he was out of cigarettes. There was a shop nearby, but he didn't want to go buy a fresh pack. Might worry Alex if he wasn't there. So he crossed his arms and waited, observing all the people coming and going. Families and couples and mates, all out for a fun evening at the cinema.

"Mr. Hunt?"

Gene knew the voice. He looked up to see Evan White standing close by. Jumbled thoughts and memories sped through Gene's mind: Evan White -- Caroline and Tim Price -- Carrying eight-year-old Alex Price away from the site of the explosion and into Fenchurch East -- Carrying Bolly into Fenchurch East -- _I'm from the future -- I _am_ Alex Price -- Poor Gene. You don't know what to do with this mad woman you've gotten yourself tangled up with -- I love when it's like this -- You're there! Help me get back to Molly. And you._

Gene mentally shook himself. His Bolly and Alex Price were not the same! "Mr. White," he said, holding out a hand. White shook it.

This was the first time he'd seen White since the investigation into the Prices' deaths was finished. The lawyer was dressed casually in jeans and jumper. "Good to see you again," White said. "How is DI Drake? Are you still working with her?"

"Yeah, we still work together," he replied. "But she's DCI now. How have you been? How is young Alex?"

"We're doing well. Alex was in counseling for a while. She doesn't remember much about that day. She does remember the explosion and knows that's how her parents died. She says a man carried her away but is not sure who. She remembers a bit about the police station." White smiled a bit. "Calls it the chessboard room."

Nodding, Gene said, "Good that you got her into counseling. That was a lot for a little kid to go through."

"Yes," White agreed. "Alex is doing all right now. Like any other ten-year-old. She's starting to have crushes on pop singers and movie stars. Dragged me here tonight. She and her best friend had to see _The Man from Snowy River._"

An icy feeling went up Gene's spine. Before he could stop himself, he asked, "What's her friend's name?"

"Marianne."

##########

Alex stood waiting for the next available toilet. Four women waited behind her. There were six stalls and two were out of order. But she was too happy to be annoyed with the wait. This weekend with Gene was so wonderful. They were content to be in each other's company. She'd shared with him a film that she loved. Alex couldn't remember when she'd had a better day.

A woman vacated one of the stalls and Alex took her turn. As she washed her hands afterward, a young girl came to the sink next to Alex's. Alex glanced at the girl's reflection – and froze. The girl was Marianne Yamamoto. Her childhood best friend. Marianne's jet black hair fell about her face as she washed her hands. To young Alex, Marianne was an exotic beauty and Alex had always envied her friend's looks.

Panic crept into Alex's mind. She had to get out of there. Quickly she grabbed some paper towels, drying her hands. Marianne was here, and that might mean that this was the night --

A stall door opened and out walked ten-year-old Alex Price. She went to the sink on the other side of Marianne. Young Alex leaned toward her friend. "I think I'm in love with Tom Burlinson," she sighed. Both girls giggled.

Alex Drake practically ran out of the restroom, her heart pounding. This was different from the other time she saw herself as a child. She was prepared then and they weren't in the same room. This was out-of-the-blue. Alex was shaking as she went back into the corridor. She could hear the giggling of little girls and quickly glanced back. Young Alex and Marianne were moving toward the lobby. _They're going to Marianne's home_, she thought. _I remember. We watched _Grease _and sang along with all the songs._ _We even knew all the dances._

Following a safe distance behind, Alex watched the girls exited the front doors. She leaned against the wall, closed her eyes, and tried to stop shaking.

##########

It had to be a coincidence. For Gene there wasn't another explanation. Unless Alex was somehow in touch with White and was playing a joke.

"Well," said White, looking toward the doors. "There are my ladies. I'd better get them home. They're having a sleepover at Marianne's home. I'm sorry I missed Alex. Please give her my regards."

"I will," Gene answered automatically.

White walked away and was joined by two little girls, one Asian with jet black hair that hung to her waist. That had to be Marianne. The other girl was Alex Price. A year and a half made a big difference. Her hair seemed a little darker, but that could be the lighting. She was smiling and laughing. Gene had never seen the child smile. The girls left with White.

Bolly. Where was she? Gene went back into the lobby. It took him a moment to find her in the crowd. She was against the wall, sitting on the floor, her knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs. Her forehead rested on her knees, hiding her face. A tight little ball of misery. Squatting down next to her, Gene didn't have to say anything. She knew he was there without looking up. "I saw them," she said, her voice muffled. "Alex and Marianne. _Me_ and Marianne." Alex finally lifted sad, tearstained eyes. "They were in the ladies'. So happy. Excited about the movie. I remember. We went to Marianne's for a sleepover. I didn't expect to see them. It was such a shock. I was so happy that night. _This_ night. I can't stop shaking."

A few people had stopped to look. Gene scowled at them and most left. One woman, who appeared to be her 50s, wasn't cowed. "Do you need some help?" she asked kindly.

Understanding that the woman really did want to help, Gene bit back a sharp reply. "She'll be all right," he said. Alex turned her eyes to the woman and nodded. Their good Samaritan went on her way.

Gene put an arm around her shoulders. "Can you get up?" he asked gently.

"Yes," Alex answered and they both stood. She wiped away some tears. "Marianne moved to America," she said in a broken voice. "I haven't seen her in years. We lost touch. I still miss her. We were giggling and talking about the movie. I looked so happy."

Steering her toward the front doors, Gene murmured, "Let's go home."

##########

It was silent in the Quattro on the way home. Gene truly did not know what to say. He kept trying to find some logical explanation for Alex's story of the future and being Alex Price. He simply couldn't accept all that she claimed. To accept that would mean –

"I'm sorry," Alex said abruptly.

"What for?"

"Breaking down. I was just so – shocked to see myself there. And Marianne. I should have known. We went to the film just before my birthday. Evan suggested we wait until then, but I was afraid it would leave."

"Your birthday's in a couple of weeks, right?"

"April 8th. Aries."

"Mine's August 16th," Gene told her.

"I know. Leo. Very appropriate for the Manc Lion." They both chuckled. "And we're both fire signs," Alex added. "Explains our temperaments."

"If you say so. Never put much stock in that rubbish."

"Well, I don't read my horoscope everyday, but sometimes the descriptions are amazingly accurate."

"Mix 'em up, read one at random, and you'd see yourself in every one," he challenged.

They were avoiding what happened at the cinema. Soon they were back at Gene's place. The rain started again and they ran inside and upstairs.

Alex still felt a bit shaky but didn't want to say anything to Gene. She shrugged off her coat, took off her boots, and curled up at the end of the sofa. Gene followed suit, shedding coat and boots, but he went into the kitchen. A moment later he returned with two glasses half-filled with a dark liquid. He sat down beside her. "Here," he said, handing one glass to Alex. "Brandy. Drink."

As she brought the glass to her lips, Alex caught the wonderful aroma. Taking a sip, she let it linger on her tongue for a few seconds before swallowing. "This is wonderful," she said. "Thank you."

"I only bring it out on special occasions," Gene said. "Or when I just happen to feel like it." He stroked her cheek. "You all right?"

"I will be. I guess."

"I didn't tell you I saw Evan White outside. Talked with him. He was waiting for the girls. Saw them come out. That's when I went looking for you."

She shrugged. "Yes, makes sense he was there. He took me and Marianne to the cinema." Alex smiled a little. "Marianne Yamamoto was my best friend. Her mother was English, married to a Japanese businessman. Marianne looked just like her father. We were the odd kids out at school, so we gravitated toward one another. The Japanese girl and the girl whose parents were blown to bits. She married an American and moved to San Francisco. I haven't seen her in years. And then to see her as a little girl…"

Gene examined Alex's expression. She seemed so earnest. And yet … "Alex," he began, "have you been seeing Evan White? Or talking with him?"

Alex's jaw dropped. She stared at him for a moment and Gene suddenly felt foolish for asking. "Seeing Evan!" she exclaimed. "When would I – ? Why would you think -- ? Why are you asking?"

He was in it now, and Gene had to know, to make some sense of the whole thing. "How would you know about Marianne? Unless Evan told you? And the film? When did you see it?"

She continued to stare at him. Then sadness crept into her eyes. "I've told you," she said. "So many times. I thought you believed me – just a little."

Gene had tried to anticipate Alex's reaction to his questions, but the hurt in her voice took him off guard. Still, he had to do something to make her see reason. "I believe that you believe it," Gene told her. "I thought that if I listened to you, let you get it out, it might be done with. But maybe you need professional help. Some sort of counselor."

Alex put the glass of brandy on the coffee table. Wrapping her arms around herself, she retreated further into the corner of the sofa. "You don't have even a little bit of faith in me?"

"How can I?" Gene asked in return. "What you claim is impossible."

"Perhaps," Alex conceded. "I might be mad. Sometimes I'm not sure. But then – then something will happen, like tonight. I saw myself as a young girl. I saw Marianne. And that makes me certain of who I am."

"But the future?"

"A friend once told me that faith can move mountains." Alex shrugged. "Maybe it can move time, too. Maybe if you trusted me – the way I trust you."

Not knowing how to answer, Gene drained his glass and set it on the table. He didn't look at Alex again. She didn't move toward him. Physically, they were as far apart as the sofa allowed. Mentally, there might as well as be an ocean between them. Gene stood. "I think I'll get a shower and go on to bed," he said.

"All right," Alex replied.

"Coming?"

"I think I'll stay out here a little longer." Her voice reflected the sadness and stress from the evening. The weekend had started great. Now it was falling apart. All over some stupid delusion of hers.

##########

Alex stayed curled up on the sofa, wiping away the tears that kept appearing. She knew Gene didn't believe all of her talk about the future. But she had truly hoped that he accepted some of it. The sound of the shower interrupted her thoughts. Normally she'd be in there with him instead of nursing the wound caused by his words and attitude. The man she loved thought she was certifiable.

Gene showered as quickly as possible. Alex would come around, see that he only suggested counseling because he was worried about her.

She continued to sit, even as she heard Gene leave the bathroom. Sure that he would come back to the living room, she dried her eyes on her sleeve. He came in a moment later, wrapped in his robe. "Coming to bed, Bolls?"

"Soon," she promised.

He stood a few seconds longer and then went on to the bedroom. _What's happening to us_? he wondered. She was hurt by his suggestion that she needed some counseling. Gene could see that. He'd expected some anger. Not this withdrawal. Putting on a vest and pajama bottoms, he considered going back out into the living room and making her talk to him. That thought gave him a quiet laugh. Gene Hunt wanting to talk. No. Talking was Bolly's thing, not his. He'd let her come to him.

##########

Alex opened her eyes. She must have fallen asleep on the sofa. Something had awakened her. A noise. The television was on, static taking over the broadcast. She couldn't remember turning it on. Perhaps she had. But if that was the case, where was the remote?

The TV screen flickered and a scene appeared, catching Alex's attention. Of course she knew this place well by now. Her hospital room in 2008. Alex could see her still form in the bed, even though her face wasn't in the picture. A man approached and sat on the edge of the bed. She couldn't see his face, but it wasn't Gene. Of that she was sure. The build was too slight. Who was visiting -- ?

No! It couldn't be! She got up from the sofa and knelt in front of the TV. The man onscreen took her hand. "Alex, baby," he said.

Pete! What the hell was he doing there? He was supposed to be in Canada with Judy!

"I can't believe this happened," Pete went on. "Some bastard shooting you in the head? I came as soon as Molly told me. It's just – I don't know. But I told you how dangerous it is to be a cop, but you wouldn't listen. Always trying to prove me wrong. Prove your superiority." He muttered the

last bit under his breath, but Alex could still hear him. "But who's wrong now? And now, they're saying you may not come out of this. You could be in a coma for years." Pete made a show of squeezing her hand.

Alex watched the scene play out, wishing she would wake up in 2008, sit up, and slap him. She wasn't going to be in the coma for years! She was going to wake up and be with Molly again!

"I've talked it over with Judy," Pete continued. "And she agrees. We'll be happy to take Molly. I know you'd want what's best for her."

"What's best?" Another man spoke. Alex recognized his voice. Evan.

"What's best," Evan went on, moving to stand at the end of the bed, "is for you to leave Molly here, with her family and friends!"

Pete dropped the comatose Alex's hand. He stood to face Evan. "I'm family, too, Evan, although I know it causes you some pain to acknowledge it. But I am her father. Considering Alex's condition, my lawyer assures me I can get full custody."

Alex grasped the edges of the television set. "You bastard!" she hissed. "Don't you dare take Molly!" She watched as Evan clenched his fists, something he did when trying to control his temper.

"I won't let you take Alex's child." Evan said. His voice had the soft, even tone that Alex remembered so well. It was the tone that said, _I've had enough, so stop while you're ahead._ As a teenager, she knew to back off at that moment or face an extra week of being grounded.

Pete's voice changed as well, taking on that sneering quality that set her teeth on edge. "We'll see. You might have charge of her for the moment, but she needs someone young. Alex is done for. Can't you see that?"

"Molly isn't going anywhere," Evan said slowly.

"Do you really think the court would hand over a child to a man of your age?"

"We'll stop you."

"Who? You and that cop?"

Alex's knuckles turned white as she held onto the TV. "Gene," she whispered.

"Neither of you is a blood relative," Pete went on. "And I don't trust him. Not with my daughter."

"I do," Evan replied.

The screen went to static.

Alex covered her face with her hands. "God, no," she whispered. "Don't let him take my child! Don't let him take my child, Gene!" For a moment, all she wanted to do was to rush into the bedroom and wake Gene and beg him to stop Pete. But after everything that happened, Alex was afraid that he'd only continue his insistence that she get professional help. She was asking so much of him. _Protect me. Wait for me. Take care of Molly. _Would she now add _Stop Pete_?

Exhausted, Alex got to her feet and turned off the television. She wanted to be next to Gene, be in his arms. Hold on to him as long as she could. She was at the door of the bedroom when she heard him call out.

##########

_He was by the water again. Sam's car was there. Gene looked around. What had happened to Sam's body? What was he going to tell Annie?_

"Are you here again?_" Sam's voice came from behind Gene. "_Still looking for answers here?_" Gene didn't turn around. "_You know there _are_ no answers here."

_Once again they returned to The Railway Arms. They stood with their backs to the bar. But at the same time he and Sam were at the corner table. "_Watch,_" Sam said. "_Watch closely – and you'll see a friendship disappear – right before your very eyes._"_

"Stop it!_" Gene demanded._

"What?_" Sam sneered. "_No stomach for it? Didn't seem to bother you at the time._"_

"Let me go, Sam!_" Gene said desperately._

"Let _you_ go? You're the one who keeps dragging me back here! And you haven't learned yet!_"_

_Gene did watch the two men in the corner. The Sam and Gene there were talking earnestly. That Sam had an expression of hope on his face while the other Gene appeared guarded and then angry. He finally stood and stormed out of the pub._

"This is where faith and trust died,_" the Sam beside him said. "_Never too return. At least not between those two men. But you had another chance._" They were the living room of Gene's flat in London. Alex sat curled up in one corner of the sofa. Gene saw himself sitting at the other end. "_Tell me, Gene,_" whispered Sam. "_Is _this_ now the place? Is this where faith and trust die yet again?_"_

"No!_" Gene tried to move but his feet were like lead._

"No? Are you sure? Because Alex thinks it is. Look at her face. You know that face. You just broke her heart._"_

"Stop it._" Gene was pleading now._

"Can't you find it in yourself to give her just a little faith? Just a tiny bit of trust? If not for Alex…_" They were on the street outside Fenchurch East. Sam pointed to the right of Gene. "_Couldn't you do it for _her_?_"_

_Gene turned to where Sam was pointing. Several yards away stood the person Gene had struggled to see for weeks now, the person who had been following him. A young girl with long brown hair and soft blue eyes – and a birthmark on her cheek. She looked solemnly at Gene._

"Molly,_" he whispered._

"Gene?"

He woke with a start. Someone called his name. Gene tried to focus in the dark room. The bedside lamp was turned on and he blinked against the sudden brightness. Alex sat on the edge of the bed, her soft hand on his face.

"You were having a bad dream," she said. She ran her fingertips across his forehead and down his cheek. "You called out for me."

"I did?"

"Yes. You said, 'Bolly.'"

_Not Bolly_, Gene thought. _Molly._ But he couldn't tell her that. He took her hand. "I don't think I sleep well unless you're beside me," he said.

Alex gave him a small smile. She quickly undressed and slid into bed.

##########

The rainclouds continued to hide the sun, so they had no natural alarm clock to get them out and about on Sunday morning. Still, Alex awoke early, only to find Gene watching her, love and longing in his eyes. They didn't need to say anything. There were times they had a communication beyond words. As they made love now, it was to ask and give forgiveness. It was for comfort and reassurance. It was for pleasure and healing.

Afterward, they lay quietly together. Alex rested her head on Gene's chest. He ran his fingers up and down her back and arms. It felt to Alex that time stood still for them.

Gene marveled at how perfect their bodies were together. They were meant for each other. Destined for each other. How could her claims of the future be real?

"Alex?" Gene said.

"Yes?"

"I love you."

It was something Alex understood, even though he rarely said it. She closed her eyes, listening to his steady heartbeat.

"I love you, Gene."

##########

They avoided the topic of last night, almost acting as if they'd not gone near a cinema. Yet Gene could tell something weighed on Alex's mind. As they washed up the breakfast dishes, he said, "Penny for 'em."

Alex met his eyes, then looked away. "I don't think so," she answered.

Gene suspected what she meant, but said, "Tell me." It wasn't doing them any good to keep it bottled up.

Drying her hands, Alex faced him. "All right. You know how I told you that I see glimpses of the future on my television? That I'm in hospital there, in coma."

Now he wished he hadn't asked. "Yes," he said.

"I saw something last night. Here. On your television."

Gene dried the last dish and put it in the cupboard. He avoided Alex's gaze. "And -- ?"

"And I saw Pete."

This was new, though easily explained. Gene and Alex had been talking about her ex. And she'd had a dream.

Alex went on. "He was visiting me. Supposedly. But mostly he was there to – " She paused and took a shaky breath. "He's threatening to take Molly away from me. Pete said the doctors don't give me much chance of coming out of the coma and he's going to try for full custody of Molly." Her mouth went into a tight, thin line, the way it always did when she was upset. "Evan was there, saying that he wouldn't let Pete take her." Alex turned her eyes to Gene. "But I'm so scared. If I don't wake up in time…"

Gene felt helpless when Alex was like this. He took her hand. She went on. "I don't know where you were, but Evan and Pete mentioned you. Not by name, but I know they were talking about you. They knew you. You'll remember your promise to me, won't you, Gene? To take care of Molly? Don't let Pete take her from me."

And they were back to square one. And try as he might to be sympathetic and understanding, something inside Gene snapped. He was tired of the games and the fantasies. Letting go of her hand, Gene turned and leaned on the countertop. "Don't, Alex," he said, not looking at her. "Just stop it."

She went quiet. Gene didn't want to see the expression on her face. He knew she was hurt. But he wanted this business to be over.

For Alex, it was like a slap in the face. She crossed her arms. "Stop it?" she said. "I'm desperate to keep my daughter and you don't want to hear about it!" Her own feelings of helplessness kicked in. "What am I supposed to do?"

Gene faced her again. "Yes! Stop all this! You're not from the future! You're not little Alex Price! You're Alex Drake! DCI Alexandra Drake! Isn't that enough for you? Aren't I -- ? Is life so bad here that all you can think about is getting out of it? Away from everything here?" He pushed past her and went into the living room.

Alex followed. "It'll break my heart to leave you!" Alex cried. "But I have a child, Gene! A daughter who's waiting for her mother to come back to her. Please understand. Don't make me choose!"

"But what kind of choice do I have! I'm supposed to love you and look out for you and believe all this without question! Without proof!"

"How do I prove it? What more do I tell you? When I do say something, you ignore it or dismiss it! I knew where the Prices would die because I was there! I told you exactly what Charles and Diana would name their first born. I knew every scene of _The Man from Snowy River_ because I've seen it a dozen times. I even told you I went to see it the first time with my best friend Marianne and you saw the two girls together!"

Gene grabbed her arms. "Stop it! You cannot be from the future!"

"Why?" Alex demanded. "Why?"

"Because if you're from the future, then Sam -- !"

They both froze. Gene released her abruptly. They continued to stare at each other. Alex barely breathed. "Sam told you," she said.

"He told me." Gene's voice had sunk to a whisper. "We were at the Railway Arms, about a week before he died. We were drinking, and he started on some idiotic story about being from the future. Used the same words you used. 'I trust you. That's why I'm telling you this.' That's why I was so shook when you…"

Alex moved closer and reached for him, but Gene took a step back. So Alex stayed still. "What happened when Sam told you?" she asked.

Gene went on, almost in a monotone. "I didn't believe him. Thought he was taking the piss. I laughed. He said he was telling the truth. First I was just convinced that he was trying to get me to believe him, so he could have a laugh, tell everyone that he'd pulled a good one on me, that I bought his joke about the future. But he kept insisting. And the more he stuck to the story, the more furious I got. We barely had a word between us that last week."

She was beginning to see where the story was going, and Alex's heart broke for Gene. She was certain he'd never told anyone else, and it had been eating away at him for all this time. He took another step back and sat down on the sofa. She slowly went to sit next to him. Gene's head was down and he didn't look up. Alex took his hands in hers. His clasp tightened as he continued.

"The day he died, he was investigating a jewelry shop robbery. He called for backup. I said—" Gene took a ragged breath. "I said, 'Why are you so worried? You're from the future. You should know what's going to happen.' That was the last thing I said to him. The best partner I ever worked with. The best mate I ever had."

Alex felt a drop of water fall on her hand and realized that Gene was crying. Leaning over, she put her head on his shoulder.

"I was already on my way when he called in! He should've known that. Sam should've known I'd never abandon another copper. Never! But he went off on his own. He didn't trust me anymore, just like I didn't trust him. We might've worked it out, but we never had the chance

"I couldn't stay in Manchester. Not with day after day of seeing where he died. And not seeing Annie. She knew we'd had a falling out. Knew all of it. Said Sam was in agony over the whole thing. That he hadn't lied. That he'd told her the same story the first day he was there. 'You broke his heart,' she said. 'You broke his heart by not believing him. Not having a little faith. Not trusting him. You might as well have killed him.' She blamed me for his death – and she was right. I killed him. Might as well have driven the car into the water myself."

Gene finally met Alex's tear-filled eyes. "And then you. You come into my life. Turn it upside down. Brought me back to the land of the living. I wanted you. God, I wanted you. But then you did a good trick on me. You made me like you. Became my friend. And you were a good copper. I had a partner again. An equal. But you were more than a partner. I loved you. And then…"

"And then," Alex said, "I told you I was from the future."

"It was Sam all over again," Gene said, tears still coursing down his face. "I don't know exactly why I suspended you. There were all kinds of things going through my head. But one of them was that my anger might get you killed. Just like Sam. And it nearly did. When I shot you, I was sure I'd killed my best friend – again."

Putting her arms around him, Alex said, "You're not responsible for Sam's death."

"You can say that all you like, but in here—" Gene pointed to his heart -- "I know that I am. I killed him, Alex."

TBC


	16. Shattered

**Author's Note: I admit it. The series finale threw me for a loop. Still ticked off about it. Plan to write my own version soon. In the meantime, there is _Repercussions_ to finish. Originally, this was to be the last chapter, albeit a very long one. And it was going along just fine – until Gene tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Pardon, luv, but I've got somethin' to say." And he took over. Isn't it funny how the characters will do that? I'd been neglecting a very important aspect of this story – and Gene made sure that it was covered. Consequently, this is not the last chapter. There will be at least one more. Maybe two.**

**A disclaimer or two. I know that police detectives can't have every weekend off. But in this story, they pretty much do. Also, after checking the Met Police site, I think I've come up with a name for a station that should have no relation to a real police station in London.**

**This is AU after Series 2. All things "Ashes to Ashes" are the property of BBC, Kudos, etc. All original characters are the products of my own imagination and no resemblance to any person, living or dead, is intended, either through name or personality or actions.**

**As always, I'm most grateful to Amlyn for letting me bounce ideas off of her and for continual support. And theHuntgoeson for her encouragement to keep going. And to Katie Duggan's Niece for giving up part of her holiday weekend to beta and critique and encourage.**

**Chapter 16**

**Shattered**

The rain had returned, the drops splashing against the windows. On any other rainy Sunday, Gene and Alex might still be in bed, wrapped in each other's arms. Alex loved the sound of rain and the sense of isolation that came with it. As if she and Gene were in their own world and able to ignore the demands of everyone else. But on this Sunday, they sat quietly on the sofa, her head resting on his shoulder. He still held her hands, as if afraid to let go. His revelation about the last week of Sam's life had been a shock to Alex. Sam had revealed everything to his best friend. And Gene's disbelief led to a falling out between them. So much like her own separation from Gene when she'd echoed Sam's story. Alex and Gene were lucky to have gotten past that. They had made it up. Gene never had that opportunity with Sam.

It broke Alex's heart to see and hear Gene's despair over Sam's death. Her assurances that he wasn't responsible for what happened fell on deaf ears. Gene would always blame himself, even if it was simply because he wasn't in the right place at the right time. The Gene Genie was needed – and he wasn't there. She pulled one hand free to reach up to caress his face. Gene placed his hand on hers, then turned his head to kiss her palm.

"I don't understand this, Alex," he whispered. "Any of it."

"Neither do I," she confessed.

"You and Sam. You say you're from the future. How can that be?"

Alex hesitated. Could she tell Gene about Sam's actions in 2006? _Sam jumped off a building to return to Annie and you and the rest of the team._ _That's how much he loved all of you. _Would that only add to Gene's feelings of guilt?

As she considered the question, Alex was reminded of the things that Gene treasured - trust, honesty, loyalty – and love.

"Sam felt that, if he did go back in time, it was to save someone he loved," Alex began. "His girlfriend Maya. And later, Annie."

She told Gene everything that Sam had related on the tapes. The cases Sam and Gene worked together. The impact their actions had on the future, and the lives saved. Gene listened, not looking at her. Just taking it all in.

Finally, Gene stood. He walked back and forth. "When did he tell you this?" he asked.

"After the payroll blag on the train, when he briefly returned home. He made tapes of everything and sent them to me. He explained that he walked out on you, thinking that there was backup coming. Sam felt a tremendous guilt about that, feeling that he'd let you all down, that you'd been killed."

He stopped in front of her, an expression of bewilderment and amusement on his face. "He walked out on us but came right back."

"Well, that's just it. He actually went back to 2006. He was there for several weeks."

Gene stared at her for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Nice one, Bolls! If he got back home, the way he always wanted, how did he go back again? I remember him walking back out of that tunnel, gun blazing."

This was the moment Alex had been dreading. She met Gene's gaze. "During the time he was back, in 2006, Sam was in a meeting with other detectives, talking about procedure. He left the meeting, went to the roof - and jumped."

All signs of amusement vanished from Gene's face as shock took over. "No," he murmured, shaking his head. "That's not funny, Alex."

"No, it's not," she agreed. "But that's what happened. The first day I was here, Ray told me that Sam had returned to help you. He was there another seven years. What he truly wanted, he was able to have. More time in the past. Working with you. Loving Annie."

"You're telling me," Gene growled, "that he killed himself just on the _chance_ that he'd get back to the same place he left?"

"I don't know." Alex groped for answers, worried that she was pushing Gene's acceptance of a seemingly impossible story. "I believe Sam thought that being near death took him back to 1973 and maybe death itself would take him back and let him stay there. And it did."

"Until I took it away from him again."

"No!" Alex got to her feet and cupped Gene's face in her hands. "I won't have you blame yourself for Sam's death! It was an accident!"

He stepped back and away from her, shaking his head. "An accident caused by some insane story of his! And you're going along with it!"

Anger shot through Alex. "My God! Are we back to this? I thought you were beginning to believe me!"

"I don't know how!" Gene shouted. "I don't know how!"

"Would you rather believe it was a great joke? That Sam and I got together and came up with an elaborate hoax just to get to you?"

"No! I just – I need time!" Gene grabbed his coat and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Alex asked.

"I don't know!" he said. Gene left the flat, slamming the door behind him.

##########

There was still enough rain falling to be annoying. Gene had foregone his boots for trainers that were soon soaked through. He got into the Quattro and sat for a moment. Sam committed suicide? That couldn't be right. A man doesn't risk his immortal soul on the chance that he ends up with the girl he loves. It was insane!

Starting the engine, Gene drove away. He ignored the sensible part of him that said to slow down on the slick streets. It was late Sunday morning and traffic was light. He soon found himself on the highway going north. What would Bolly make of that? Some unconscious desire to go home? He opened up the engine.

It was all too much. It was insane. Why did he attract the nutters and the liars? What did the universe have against Gene Hunt? This wasn't Doctor Bloody Who! No time travel! No mysterious people from the future! So why did these weirdoes end up on his patch? Why did one become the best mate he'd ever known? The cop he'd trusted with his life?

And why did the other turn out to be the kind of woman he'd dreamed of but was sure didn't exist? Why did she have to be the one to take his heart and turn him into a soft, sentimental fool? Why did she turn the mirror on him and make him see how empty his life had become – and how she could fill that space with happiness and hope?

And now she was taking all that and demanding that he believe her love for him – and how that all had to go away. The thought of being without her hurt more than he could have imagined. _It'll break my heart to leave you!_ she said. But what did she think it would do to his?

Why was he even bothering with this? It wasn't real. Alex had some kind of mental problem. Something that made her believe all this bullshit. That was the only thing to explain it.

Gene checked the fuel. It was getting low and he wasn't even certain how far he'd driven. At least the rain had stopped. He found a station and filled the tank, trying to decide what to do next. The last thing he wanted was another head-butting session with Alex. No, what he wanted was a pub. The first one he could find. Drink, eat, and try to forget for a while.

##########

These were the times when Alex really missed her mobile. She could call Gene and even if he didn't answer, she could leave a message or text. All she really wanted right now was to hear his voice and know that he was all right.

But after waiting for nearly four hours, her patience was running thin. Perhaps they both needed time. That thought gave her a laugh, albeit a bitter one. Time was the culprit. Time divided them. But she prayed that time would bring them together.

Still, she didn't want a repeat of their earlier argument. Alex found some paper to leave Gene a note. _I'll be at home. Please call. Bolly_

##########

What time was it? Gene looked at his wrist. No watch. He kept forgetting. Glancing out the window, he could see that it was dark. Wasn't it daylight when he came in? He needed another drink. How many had he had? Not enough. Slowly he got to his feet and walked up to the bar. "Another scotch," he ordered, careful not to slur his words. Although he knew that he was a little drunk, Gene was sure that he wasn't too far gone.

The bartender, a tall man, very much like Gene himself, disagreed. "Sorry, pal," he said. "I think you've had your limit."

"I said, another scotch," Gene repeated.

"No can do." The man leaned forward. "Why don't you go home to the missus? I'll call you a taxi."

"Taxi?" Incensed by the suggestion, Gene stepped back. "I have my own car!" He dug into his pocket and drew out his keys. "See? It's a Quattro!" He took another step back. "Don't have a missus. Have a girlfriend. From the future!" Gene couldn't seem to find a place to stand up straight. The floor tilted to the right. Looking around, he didn't see anyone else having trouble. Must be just in front of the bar. He grasped the edge. "Now where's my scotch?"

The last thing he remembered was the bar slipping away from his fingers.

##########

Alex sat on the sofa, trying to concentrate on the book in her hands. At Gene's insistence, she was reading _Conagher_ – and finding that she liked it. But tonight, her mind kept going back to her last talk with Gene. Where was he? She hadn't heard from him. After trying to phone him every half hour, she was on the verge of giving up. Surely he'd be in to work in the morning.

About eight o'clock her telephone rang and Alex jumped to answer. But the man at the other end of the line wasn't Gene.

"May I speak with DCI Drake?" he asked.

"This is Drake," she replied.

"You're - ? Pardon me, ma'am, but I'm looking for a DCI with the Metropolitan Police. This is Sergeant Thomas of Whitestone Station."

Alex could think of only one reason an officer from another police station would be calling her. "I _am_ DCI Alex Drake," she said. "How can I help you, Sergeant? Is it someone on my team?"

"Beg pardon, ma'am. Just didn't think about DCI Drake being a woman. It's about DI Gene Hunt. Are you his superior?"

_God, let him be safe!_ "Yes. Is he all right?"

"Well, except for being quite drunk, yes, ma'am, he's all right."

Alex breathed a sigh of relief. "What happened?"

##########

It was after 9:00 when Alex arrived across town at Whitestone Station. Sergeant Thomas was at the front desk waiting for her. He was an average-sized man in his 50s and had the courtly manners she'd rarely seen in her years on the force. One of a dying breed. "I'm sorry to have to call you out here, ma'am," he said. "DI Hunt passed out at the pub down the street from here, so the bartender got him into a back room, found his warrant card, and called us. By the time our men got there, he'd come to and kept trying to leave. He'd taken a swing at the bartender. Naturally, we couldn't let him drive in that condition. He wouldn't tell us who to call, but one of our detectives knew what station Hunt works out of – and that led us to you."

Sighing, Alex replied, "I appreciate your calling me. Where is he now?"

"This way." Thomas led her down a hallway. "Him being a copper and all, we just let him wait in an interview room until you could arrive. Here you are." They stopped in front of closed door. "And here are the keys to Mr. Hunt's car."

"Thank you, Sergeant." Alex was gratified to see that the man left her alone. No doubt that he'd make certain that she and Gene would have some privacy – although every copper at the station had to be curious about how a female DCI handled this situation. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and went in.

Gene sat, one elbow propped on the table, his head resting on an upraised fist, his eyes closed. He opened one eye as Alex drew near. "Sergeant called you," he said, the words slurring some. Clearly, he was still drunk.

"Yes. I'm glad he did."

"I'm not." Gene closed the eye again.

She longed to touch him, hold him. But Alex knew she didn't dare. Not here. Instead, she simply said, "Let's go."

Opening both eyes this time, Gene got to his feet, swaying a little. Alex threw caution to the wind and got his arm around her shoulder and they walked out together.

"The Quattro," Gene said.

"You can come get it tomorrow," Alex told him.

"Don't remember where this is."

"We'll talk about it later."

##########

They drove back to Gene's place in silence. Alex wanted to say something about how reckless he'd been and ask why he was so far from away. However, she knew that he wasn't in any shape for a lecture.

Gene shrugged off her help up the stairs. "Out of my way!" he growled.

"Fine," she replied. "But I'm going up first. I'm not going to have you take me out if you fall!"

Once inside the flat, Alex planned to help Gene to bed; but again, he pushed her aside. "Don't need you. Get out of my way."

"You can barely stand," Alex countered. "Here, let me – "

"Get out of my way!" he snapped.

There was a look in Gene's eyes that she had seen before. Pain, anger, humiliation. "All right," she replied. However much they had shared, there were times when Gene would shut down and whatever was bothering him would come out in other ways. Like getting drunk.

Gene stared at Alex. All afternoon he'd been thinking about her. How she'd come into his life. How she'd changed everything _about_ his life. His thoughts and emotions were now jumbled and confused. "Why don't you leave?" he said. "You keep wanting to go. Go! You come here. End up on my patch. And you got tits a man wants to wrap his hands around. And legs a man wants wrapped around him. And I wanted you so much. You got under my skin and into my head. And you're a great cop and then you were my friend. But that wasn't enough, was it?"

The floor seemed to be shifting beneath his feet. A part of his brain understood that he was drunk and should shut up. Already he could see his ranting was upsetting Alex. Her eyes reflected the hurt he was inflicting.

But the words kept tumbling out. Gene couldn't stop himself. He spoke softly, leaning close to this woman who had turned his world upside down. "No, that wasn't enough. You. You tore out my guts. Made me soft. And that still wasn't enough. You had to get into my heart. That first day…" He grabbed Alex's hand and put it on his chest. "That's what you did. Just like this. And you felt it beating. Couldn't believe it was beating. I couldn't either. But _you_ made it beat. And then. Now. Now you rip it out of my chest and hold it up in front of me so I can _see_ it beating. And you say, 'You can fuck me, but you can't have me. I'm gonna leave you. I'm gonna walk outta your life and you might see me again one day, but you're gonna have to wait a few years. But _please_ be there. I need you. _Please_ take care of Molly and me and be there and wait. Wait for me. Yeah, you'll be alone for twenty-five years, but that's not much, is it? No. If you love me, you'll be there.'"

Gene dropped her hand. "You don't ask for much, do you, Bolly? Just everything. Just my heart and soul and life. To use whenever you need 'em. It's not enough to want to leave. You want to make sure you take my heart with you – and leave me with nothing. So you want out so bad? Go. Just get out. Go back to your _future_ life and your kid. Get out of _my_ life and stop begging me to believe you and wait for you and look out for you and protect you. Go back and leave me and my beating heart alone!"

Alex felt as if Gene had torn a gaping wound across her own heart. She had feared that one day he would decide that it was all too much. Now that day was here. Tears burned her eyes and she looked away, no longer able to face the anger and pain in Gene's expression.

"Why don't you say something?" Gene challenged. Alex's silence bothered him. He was used to his Bolly fighting back. He _wanted_ her to fight back. "Why don't you tell me I'm wrong? Why don't you yell at me?"

She faced him again. "Because you're drunk. And because you're right." Alex left the flat, closing the door softly behind her.

Gene stood a moment longer, staring at the door. His flat seemed so empty now, almost as though he himself was gone. Stupid thought. Making his way to the kitchen, he found a half-empty bottle of scotch. Maybe if he kept drinking, he could fall asleep without thinking of the shattered expression in Alex's eyes as she walked out.

**TBC…**


	17. Dreams

**Author's note: Yes, time got away from me again. I apologize that it's taken so long to get this ready to post. There should be only one more chapter, albeit a long chapter. And then I'll be moving on to something new. Well, sort of new.**

**Many thanks to all who have put my stories or me on Favorites and/or Alerts. I appreciate you all very much. Your support means so much to me and keeps me going.**

**This is AU after Series 2. All things "Ashes to Ashes" are the property of BBC, Kudos, etc. All original characters are the products of my own imagination and no resemblance to any person, living or dead, is intended, either through name or personality or actions.**

**Chapter 17**

**Dreams**

_The street was quiet. Alex looked around, noting that the cars parked on either side were modern cars. Twenty-first century cars._

_She was home._

_This was her street. And directly across from her was her own house._

_Alex ran across the street. The front door opened – and Molly stepped outside. Her daughter paused._

"_Mum?"_

"_Molly!"_

_Mother and child ran toward each other. Alex wrapped the young girl in a tight embrace. "Molly! My little girl!"_

_Molly returned the hug and grinned at her mother. "I'm so happy you're back, Mum! I was so afraid!"_

_Alex smiled through tears. "I'll never leave you again!"_

"_But, Mum?" Molly drew back and looked up and down the street. "Where's Gene?"_

"_Gene?" How could Molly possibly know about Gene?_

"_He's supposed to be here. Where is he?"_

_Alex choked back a sob. "He's not here, Molly. He decided not to be here."_

"_No!" Molly pulled away from her mother. "He's got to be here! He promised!"_

_The thought of Gene tore at Alex's heart. "It was too much to ask, Sweetheart. Too much. I couldn't ask him to do any more." _

"_He's got to be here! It's important! Why isn't he here?" Molly ran out the gate and down the street. "Gene!"_

_Alex followed her daughter. "Molly!" But the child had vanished. Terrified, Alex began to scream. "Molly! Molly!"_

Alex's eyes flew open. Her heart racing, she forced herself to lie still. Where was she? Bedroom. Her bedroom. In 1983. Where was Gene? Why wasn't he there?

Then she remembered.

_Get out of my life and stop begging me to believe you and wait for you and look out for you and protect you. Go back and leave me and my beating heart alone!_ The words Gene had spoken. Words that had broken her heart.

She looked at the clock. 5:18. It was amazing that she'd gotten any sleep at all. She definitely remembered looking at the clock shortly after 2:00. Before that, she had lain awake, crying and worrying. The man she loved had thrown her out. And Alex was finding it difficult to blame him doing just that. All that was on her mind was getting back to Molly, certain that Gene would help her and be there. Finally, her demands were too much, and Gene let her know that the idea of waiting twenty-five years to see her again was more than he could take.

Alex contemplated getting more sleep, but the dream had been so disturbing that she was left wide awake. The dream. Once again Alex was reminded of the vision she'd had in hospital. After the shooting. She'd gone home. She was certain of that. Alex had returned to 2008 – but she wasn't really awake. In a sort of out-of-body experience, she'd seen herself, lying in the hospital bed. Molly and Evan stood by her bedside, worrying about her. And Gene was there. And somehow, her daughter knew him – and trusted him.

So how was that supposed to happen? Gene was right. Her asking him to be there in 25 years was selfish. Alex's desperation had blinded her to the sacrifices she wanted from him.

Throwing back the covers, Alex got out of bed. Gene deserved better than a woman who kept talking about leaving. He deserved a life. Maybe it was time to let go.

##########

"_Gene! Gene!"_

"_Leave me alone, Sam!"_

"_I would if I could. What's wrong with you? What are you doing?"_

"_Bugger off!"_

Gene woke just as he was about to roll off the sofa. What the hell was he doing there? "Bolly!" he called. Why didn't she get him into bed? "Bolly!"

Where was she?

Then he remembered.

He pushed himself upright and sat on the edge of the seat. His head pounding, Gene decided he should wait a moment before attempting to stand. A slip of paper on the floor caught his attention. He picked it up and read the note, left the day before. _I'll be at home. Please call. Bolly. _Memories of the day before whirled through his head. Alex. Sam. Getting drunk. Telling Alex to leave.

What else could he do? She was certifiable or she was telling the truth. Gene was no longer certain which was the answer. Either way, he had to break it off – before _he_ was certifiable! Already he'd begun to doubt himself. Seeing Molly out of the corner of his eye. Feeling the child following him. Dreams of Sam.

Gene Hunt had always been a man with his feet on the ground. That was how he worked. That was how he survived. And now the woman he loved asked him to take a leap of faith. And he couldn't. As much as he wanted to – out of love, out of compassion – Gene couldn't find it in himself to follow her into the unknown.

He got up from the couch and went into the bedroom. The alarm clock read 6:08. He could get more sleep, but lying in the cold bed without Alex, warm and welcoming, put the thought out of his head. He stripped off and got into the shower and tried not to think of the times they'd been in there together. And how she would never be there again.

##########

The day was dawning with clear skies and lower temperatures. Alex hoped that the first few blooms of spring wouldn't die. She always looked forward to the changing of the seasons. Spring meant warmth and color and her birthday. April 8. Next week would be her second birthday in this world. Gene had hinted that he had something special planned for the day.

Now she wouldn't know what it was.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, Alex crossed the street to enter Fenchurch East, a place she had grown to love. But this morning, she dreaded going in. Gene would be there and so would the pain of acknowledging their falling out.

##########

The feeling hit him as soon as he set foot on the pavement. She was there. A kid who couldn't possibly _be_ there.

"Leave me alone," Gene said softly through gritted teeth. He could see her out of the corner of his eye. "You're not even there. I don't know what you are, but you are not Molly Drake!" Turning away, he took a few steps in the direction of his usual parking space, only to remember the Quattro wasn't there. And he could still feel the child's presence.

"Look," he said, "I'm not responsible for her. I didn't bring her here. I'm not keeping her here!" Gene didn't know why he was saying these things, but he couldn't stop. His voice got louder. "She can go anytime she wants! I _told_ her to go! So stop following me around! She's not my responsibility! _You're_ not my responsibility!"

Gene stood still for a moment, trying to sense the girl. But she was gone. He looked over his shoulder – and saw two of his neighbors, a young couple, a few feet behind him. They were clearly confused and more than a little startled by his outburst. "Sorry," he muttered, then continued walking down the street.

If the couple were frightened by his outburst, they had nothing on Gene himself. Why had he said those things? It was as if he –

As if he believed Alex's story.

_That's all I need_, he thought. _To be as much of a nutter as her!_

##########

The lights were off in the main part of CID, but they were on in the office. Gene entered the department and saw Alex at her desk. She had the radio on, listening to the morning news while she pored over some paperwork. She didn't seem to have noticed his arrival. He stood a minute, just watching her. All of Alex's attention was on the papers. Gene knew exactly the expression on her face. When she was concentrating, she would frown a bit. Sometimes her lips would form a tight line. And then she'd pout and even pucker her lips. Right now, even from his desk, he could see that the pout had begun. And all he wanted was to go into the office, take him in his arms, and kiss that beautiful mouth and never stop holding her and loving her.

But he couldn't do those things. It was over.

He turned on the department lights, catching Alex's attention. She glanced up. Their eyes met for a moment. Neither of them said anything. Gene broke away first, hanging up his coat. When he looked again, Alex was back at the paperwork. He sat down and saw that she'd left the keys to the Quattro on his desk. But only the car keys. He felt absurdly relieved to see that she hadn't returned the key to his flat.

Alex stole a glance at Gene as he sat at his desk and saw him pocket the keys. She'd thought of also leaving his flat key but could not bring herself to do so. That would mean their relationship was really over – and she wasn't able to face that. Not yet.

They sat in silence, both examining the papers in front of them, as if there was nothing more important. For her part, Alex found that her concentration vanished as soon as Gene walked in. She wasn't usually one to ignore a problem. Alex Drake went at things head-on. And if they couldn't talk together and behave as adults, how could they work together? Putting down her pen, Alex stood and went into the kitchen. She could almost feel Gene's eyes on her.

Moments later she returned with two mugs of tea. Going to Gene's desk, she put one of the mugs in front of him. "Strong, five sugars," she said.

Gene avoided her gaze but quietly said, "Ta."

Gripping her own mug with both hands, Alex cast her mind about, trying to come up with a safe topic. "You and Ray will be in court this morning? On the Piggy Higgy case?" She could almost swear that she saw Gene's shoulders relax.

"Yeah," he answered, finally meeting her gaze. "And Shaz. Don't know that they really need me. They've done all the work. I'll probably – " Gene stopped and looked away, picking up some papers. "I'll probably go get the Quattro. Whitestone, right?"

"Yes." It seemed to be as good an opening as any. "Gene?" Alex began. "I think we should talk," she began softly.

He looked up sharply, scowling at her. "Not here!"

Alex's eyes flashed anger. "Of course not here!" she snapped. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly, reining in her temper. "Tonight. My place. I – I owe you an apology."

The silver-blue eyes softened, looking at her with sadness. "You don't owe me anything, Alex."

Gene's answer surprised Alex and, for some reason, brought sudden tears to her eyes. It was a dismissal, a way of saying that their personal relationship was truly at an end. She turned away and walked toward her office, trying to get her emotions under control.

He resisted watching her walk away. It was too easy to call her back. No. Better to let it be done.

Voices in the hallway drew Gene's attention. Chris and Shaz were on their way in, at least a half hour early. The doors to CID opened and they entered. The young couple appeared surprised to see their superior there. "Morning," Shaz said brightly.

Chris nodded. "Mornin', Guv."

"Morning," Gene returned.

Shaz glanced in the direction of the office. Gene couldn't stop his own gaze from following hers. Alex stood in front of the window, looking out on the street. "Oh, good. DCI Drake's here," the WDC observed. The couple exchanged glances and Chris nodded. "Guv?" Shaz went on, "could we talk with you both? In the office?"

Gene saw a blush creeping up over Chris's collar. The reason for the request of a talk couldn't have been more obvious. Suppressing a smile, Gene stood and the three went to Alex's office. The DCI heard them enter and turned around. "Yes?" she asked.

"Morning, Ma'am," Shaz said. "Hope you don't mind, but Chris and I need to talk with you and the Guv."

Alex searched the faces of everyone, finally settling on Shaz. Both women grinned. "Shaz," Alex said. "When?"

Shaz giggled. "End of October."

Alex went around the desk and hugged the younger woman. "I'm so happy for you!" Alex released Shaz long enough to hug Chris. "You're going to be a dad! Congratulations!"

The DC blushed even more. "Thank you, Ma'am," he said.

"You didn't waste much time," Gene said, shaking Chris's hand. "Congratulations." Gene leaned over to give Shaz a peck on the cheek. He stole a glance at Alex, seeing the joy in her eyes. Women.

"Thank you, Guv," Shaz said. "We're not sure how it will go over with everyone. Especially with Superintendent Wilkins here."

"Sod Wilkins!" Gene declared.

Alex smiled. "I'm not certain of the rules and regulations at present," she said. "But we'll figure something. Unless you're thinking of quitting."

"Oh, no, Ma'am. But…" Shaz turned to her husband.

"The fact is," Chris began, "we know that it's a matter of time before we're split up. I mean, Shazzer and I have been on borrowed time, working here together. So I'm puttin' in for a transfer."

"Transfer?" Alex blurted out.

"Yeah." Chris looked back and forth between his superiors. "To Fenchurch West. I've a friend over there. Dan Shaw. He was just promoted to sergeant. He said that DCI Jones has turned the place around since Carnegie's been gone. So, I thought, I could put in for there, before Wilkins or one of his lot decide for me. And Shaz and I agreed that it'd be best for her to stay here, with people who care about her and will look after her and the baby."

Gene nodded. "You've thought it out, Chris. Jones _is_ a good man. I can have a word with him, if you like. You'll do all right there." He caught Alex's eye. For some ridiculous reason, Gene suddenly felt as if he and Alex were the parents and the Skeltons their kids. "And we'll take care of Shaz."

"Of course, we'll do everything we can," agreed Alex.

"Thank you, Ma'am," Shaz said. "I'm just so excited about it."

"Even with the morning sickness?"

"It's been manageable so far. But just – I don't know – " A sort of dreamy look came to Shaz's face. "I'm carrying a baby. A new life! And I'm already so in love with her."

Smiling, Alex nodded. "You're sure it's a girl?"

"Yeah. I just – _know._"

Gene watched as the same expression lit Alex's face. "I was the same way," she told Shaz. "I knew my baby was a girl. I knew what her name would be. Spoke to her. Shaz." Alex took the young woman's hands. "She'll be a part of you. Always. You'll share something so special. And nothing will ever change that."

Hearing Alex talk of Molly and motherhood threw Gene. A connection to her child. Her longing for that child. She could not give up hope of seeing Molly again. Could he really blame her for that?

##########

Alex stood in the doorway of her office. Gene leaned against his desk. They were both watching as the rest of the detectives in CID suddenly became doting "dads" to their Shazzer. The men gathered around, congratulating Chris and giving him a wink and a nudge, while still making certain that the expectant mother was comfortable and even offering to make her tea and get her a cushion to sit on and a pillow for her back. Ray, of course, was not surprised by the announcement, having heard the news the day before, when he, Teresa, and Edmund had dinner at the Skelton home.

As everything died down, Gene reminded Ray and Shaz that they needed to get ready for court. Gene made certain that he would not be needed in the courtroom and asked Chris to drive him to Whitestone. If the constable was curious about why the Quattro was at the other station, he knew better than to ask the Guv. Instead, they spoke of Fenchurch West and DCI Jones and Chris finally confessed his concerns about being a father and raising a good kid.

"Don't worry," Gene told him. "I knew your dad. You have a good example there."

Chris considered the statement and nodded. "You're right. Dad was the best."

At Whitestone police station, Gene asked about Sergeant Thomas and learned that the man was not on duty. So he left a note, thanking the sergeant for his help the night before. Gene then drove slowly back to Fenchurch East. So much was changing. His kingdom was falling apart. And it seemed to have started the day Alex walked in. She wasn't one to let things be. No. Everything had to keep moving forward, and everyone got swept along.

He supposed that it had to happen sooner or later. Ray and Chris had to get restless at some point. Shaz was ambitious. She was the future of the Met, and Gene understood that. Ray wanted to advance, as well. The sergeant was thinking of supporting a wife and kid, not just scraping by. Chris was starting his own family. Transferring to Fenchurch West was a clear move to independence. All of them were smart enough. They were good detectives. They'd go far.

Gene had told Alex that he'd be a poor excuse for a boss if he didn't want them to move on. Now he had to live up to that. And it wouldn't be easy. Especially when Alex herself spoke of leaving. Suddenly Gene realized that the prospect of being alone was more possible than ever.

##########

By the time Gene returned to Fenchurch East, Alex had left for the DCI meeting. Inwardly, he breathed a sigh of relief, although he had no idea how they might continue to avoid each other. This was why workplace affairs were a bad idea.

Chris was on the phone when he walked in, and Gene realized that the DC was in charge. Well, that wasn't so bad. The young man had done well under similar circumstances in the past. Gene was about to take off his coat when Chris called out to him. "Guv!"

"Yeah?"

Coming over to Gene's desk, Chris spoke softly. "Guv, you had a call from one of your snouts. Dickie Nolan."

"Dickie? I haven't heard from him in months. What did he want?"

"Said he has some news, it's big, and he'll be here – "Chris gave Gene a note with an address. " – about noon."

Gene checked his watch. "Near that time now. I'll see what he's got. Let Drake know I'll be back later."

"Right, Guv."

##########

Alex took her time getting back to the station. She hated meetings. This one had left her head pounding – although she was willing to concede that that might have been caused by too much coffee and not enough food. Her breakfast of corn flakes was a long time ago. She stopped for a sandwich, planning to eat at her desk when she got the Fenchurch East.

As she drove up, Alex saw Gene speeding away. Her shoulders relaxed. Normally, she believed in facing her problems. But this hurt too much. Better that she and Gene spend a little more time apart.

The department was almost empty when she walked in. Chris filled her in on the whereabouts of the missing detectives. The news about Gene piqued her interest. "One of his snouts?" she asked. "Any idea what kind of information he has?"

"No, Ma'am. Dickie only said it was big. But he's not always the most reliable snout. So there's no telling what it'll be."

"All right." Alex was about to dismiss the DC but decided to keep him there for a moment. "Chris?"

"Ma'am?"

"Close the door and have a seat."

He was obviously puzzled – and a little nervous - but followed instructions. Alex took her chair and leaned forward. She smiled at Chris, trying to put him at ease. "I'm so happy for you and Shaz," she began.

Chris immediately relaxed and grinned. "It was a bit of a surprise, but like Shazzer said, we're already in love with the baby."

"Of course, we'll miss you here, but I think you've made a good decision," Alex told him. "Just one thing. You should put in for a promotion."

Squirming a little in his chair, Chris said, "I don't know."

"You're ready, Chris. You've come a long way, taking on responsibilities here. Your detective work is excellent. I'd like to see you make sergeant before you leave Fenchurch East."

With each comment, Alex could see Chris puffing out his chest a little more. Then he seemed to deflate. "That's good of you to say, Ma'am," he said "But with what happened last fall, well, the Guv was my superior then and I don't know what he'd say to a promotion for me."

"You've proved yourself time and again. And the Guv himself offered to talk with DCI Jones."

"Maybe he wants rid of me."

"Stop it!" Alex said, more sharply than she'd intended. "That's not true. He's looking after you, as he's always done. Gene's very proud of you. And I'm the DCI now and I believe in you. You just have to believe in yourself."

Chris sat another moment in silence, but Alex could see that her words had some effect on him. The pride came back to his face. He smiled. "I do, Ma'am."

Alex returned the smile. "Good."

##########

Dickie Nolan was the stereotypical image of the little Irishman. He reminded Gene of Barry Fitzgerald in _The Quiet Man_, but without the charm. By trade Dickie was an auto body man. He could make a damaged car look like new, when he could get work. The trouble was keeping the job because Dickie was also an alcoholic. He'd get cleaned up and stay sober for a while. But the man didn't know how to drink except to get drunk. After a few weeks on a job, he'd inevitably start coming in late or not at all, sleeping off a hangover. Being unreliable, Dickie would be sacked and have to start all over again. That was usually when he'd start looking for other ways to make money. And being a snout helped keep body and soul together.

Sometimes Dickie would have good information. Gene hoped this was one of those times. He needed a diversion from thinking about Alex. On the way to their meeting place, Gene stopped for some fish and chips to take along. Dickie had a bad habit of using any money for booze instead of food. The least Gene could do was to make sure the man had a meal. Sure enough, when Gene got to the rendezvous behind an old warehouse, the snout looked like he'd not had much to eat in several days.

"Mr. Hunt." Dickie smiled in greeting.

Gene nodded. "Dickie. Been a long time. Thought maybe you'd settled in for a real job."

"Yeah." The little man shrugged. "You know how it goes. But I got some news for you." The man looked around, even though it was clear they were alone.

"Spill it!" Gene barked.

"Right. It's about that man you were looking for a while back. Arthur Layton."

"Layton!" That was a name Gene had not expected to hear again. He was certain the man had fled the country after killing the Prices. "Are you sure?"

"I saw him," Dickie answered. "Didn't look the same as he did. Got a scar on his face now."

That made sense. Gene was responsible for the injury to Layton's face. "Where he is?"

"Don't know. He's layin' low. But I knew you'd want to know he's in town. Saw him last night, down by the river."

"Last night? How can you be sure it was him?"

Dickie shuddered. "Can't mistake that man. Got cold eyes. Always sayin' 'Don't look at me.' He's a nutter, Mr. Hunt."

Gene couldn't argue with that. "All right. Anything else, Dickie?"

"No. Just…" The man shrugged.

Taking a five pound note from his pocket, Gene gave it to Dickie, along with the food. "Take care of yourself," Gene said. Dickie nodded. They walked away from each other.

Instead of going straight back to the station, Gene decided to call on a few other informants to see if anyone could back up Dickie's story of Layton's return. If the scum was back, Alex would have to know, sooner or later. Gene hoped to make it later. Alex still claimed to be the daughter of Tim and Caroline Price. And even though Tim confessed on tape that he'd planned the murder of his family and his own suicide, Arthur Layton had been responsible for the explosion that resulted in the deaths of Tim and Caroline.

All in all, it was more than Gene wanted to deal with – and he certainly didn't want to bring Alex into it. At least not until he could put Layton in a cell.

##########

The afternoon went by faster than Alex could have imagined. Between new cases and old paperwork, she was kept busy – and kept her mind off her personal problems. Gene's absence helped in that regard. At the same time, his not being there bothered her. He hadn't called in, not even to Ray, and the DCI in Alex was angry over that.

The department began to clear out at 6:00. "Are you coming to Luigi's, Ma'am?" asked Shaz. "The team wants to treat me and Chris tonight."

"I'll be there as soon as I can," Alex told her. "I want to buy the champagne."

"All right. Be sure to tell the Guv when he gets in."

"I will. Would you mind getting the lights on the way out?"

"Sure."

Soon Alex was back where she started that morning - alone in her office, the outer room dark, and trying not to think of the past evening with Gene. Naturally, the more she tried not to think of it, the more she did. Workplace affairs were never a good idea. How were she and Gene to work together after that?

##########

Outside the station, Gene saw the team leaving as he drove up. Ray veered away from the group and met Gene as he got out of the Quattro. "Guv," the DS said, "we're going to celebrate Chris and Shaz's news. You coming?"

"Bit early to be wettin' the baby's head, isn't it?" Gene asked.

"Never too early to drink," Ray countered, grinning. "They're happy. And from what Chris is saying, he won't be here much longer for beer o'clock. We need to celebrate while we can."

Gene frowned. "You still thinking of moving on, too?"

Ray shrugged his shoulders. "Things change, Guv. Yeah, I'm lookin' into transferring near Teresa. She's – " He looked down and shuffled his feet. "I'm thinking – about the future and all. With her and Eddie."

The future. Everyone was on about the future. Chris, Shaz, Ray – Alex.

"You _should_ think about it," Gene said. "Teresa must be quite a woman."

Ray's face lit up and Gene had no doubts about his sergeant's feelings. "She is, Guv," Ray said. "She is."

"Good." Gene nodded toward Luigi's. "You go on. I'll be over there in a bit. Got a few things to do here first."

Walking into the station, Gene turned his mind to his wasted efforts of the afternoon. A couple of other snouts backed up Dickie's story of seeing Arthur Layton, but no one could give more information about what Layton was doing back in London or where to find him. All in all, it was a frustrating day – but it had kept him out of CID and away from seeing Alex.

##########

Alex filed the last of the papers and cleared her desk. If she sat there any longer, she'd just start feeling more sorry for herself. And more guilty about Gene. She put on her coat and turned out the lights in the office, ready to leave.

The outer doors opened and Gene walked in. They both froze, as if unsure what to do next. Standing there, Alex thought of simple, noncommittal things she might say. But what came out was snappish, "Where have you been?"

Even in the dim light from the hallway, she could see the flash of temper in the silver-blue eyes. "Out," he said flatly. "Doing my job."

"Chris said you went out to talk to one of your informants. That took all afternoon?"

"I've got my own way of doing things!" Gene shot back. "I thought we were clear on that!"

"And it never occurred to you to call in?"

"You don't trust me? Think I need looking after?"

"I've told you I don't care how you do your job, but I'm your DCI and I do expect you to tell me what's going on!"

"That's what this goes back to! You being in charge!"

"No! I just - !" Alex stopped. She and Gene looked at each other, not saying anything, as if afraid that the next comments would push them too far. And the last thing Alex wanted was a complete break of trust between them. They might never again be lovers, but Gene was the person she could count on. And she couldn't lose that friendship.

"I do trust you," she said quietly. "I just need to know where you are."

A soft answer turneth away wrath. Alex seemed to remember that quote from somewhere. Maybe the Bible. In any case, it seemed to work. She and Gene took a step back. "I was following up on what Dickie Nolan told me," he said. "Never know if he's got the goods or not."

"Chris said he was unreliable."

"Yeah."

"Is this something I should know about? His information?"

Gene had known Alex would ask the question, and he decided to stick with his gut feeling that it was the wrong time to tell her about Layton. So he simply said, "Not yet." Alex nodded in return.

They were quiet a moment longer. Finally Alex said, "The department's gone to Luigi's to celebrate Chris and Shaz's good news. I was just on my way over there."

"Ray told me on the way in. I'm going to do a couple of things here," Gene said. "I'll be over soon."

"All right." Alex walked past him, then turned around. "Gene?"

"Yeah?"

Alex had to say it, no matter what Gene had told her that morning. "I still think we should talk. I still feel – that is – "

He cut her off. "You should go on to the party, Alex."

It was plain that Gene didn't want to revisit their problems. He turned on the lights and sat down at his desk. Momentarily defeated, Alex left the department.

Gene watched her walk away. He had been honest with her this morning. Alex didn't owe him anything. But he knew she'd not rest until they talked things over. Not that that would do any good. When something was done with, better to let it go. And that's what he was going to do.

##########

The celebration was just getting started when Alex walked in. Luigi, like the detectives, was fussing around Shaz as if the young woman was his daughter. He treated everyone to champagne – careful to keep the portions to one glass each – and even offered up a few pizzas. Alex made a mental note to reimburse Luigi for some of his expenses, if he'd accept it.

Shaz took a sip of the champagne during Ray's toast, but dutifully put the glass aside afterward and asked for fizzy water. Alex drained her glass and mingled for a while, all the time keeping one eye on the front door, waiting for Gene to walk through.

About twenty minutes later, Gene did show up. But he avoided Alex and stayed with the rest of the team. Realizing that he had no intention of talking with her, Alex gave up. She asked Luigi for an order of spag bol to take away. As soon as it arrived, she made her way to Shaz and Chris, gave them her congratulations again, and went upstairs.

The food was good, but Alex had little appetite. She ate only half and put the rest in the fridge. And even though it was still early, she got ready for bed.

Lying on the sofa, Alex turned on the television, not really caring what was on. She just didn't want to climb into bed, not without Gene there to put his arms around her and love her and hold her when the nightmares came. Tonight she felt so lonely, as she hadn't felt since before Christmas.

Between little sleep the night before and the pasta dinner, she was fighting to remain awake. Finally she gave in, knowing there was no reason to stay up. Gene would not be coming.

##########

He had definitely drunk too much. Not so much that he couldn't function and walk home safely; but even with a large plate of spaghetti to soak up the alcohol, Gene knew he'd crossed the line from tipsy to a little drunk. Now, for the first time in months, he was going home on a Monday night, instead of following Alex up to her flat. He should be sliding into bed beside her and running his hands along the curves of her beautiful body and settling himself between those incredible legs. But that wasn't going to happen. Never again.

The flat was cold. And the emptiness there seemed to creep into him. So much of Alex was there. Her robe, her toothbrush. Her perfume lingered in the air.

_Tell me, do you ever get lonely, Gene?_

_Sometimes._

Less than twenty-four hours. Yet he was already lonely for her.

Gene took off his coat and tie and hung them in the closet. A glance at the bed told him that, just like this morning, he didn't want to lie there without Alex. Changing into sweatpants and a T-shirt, he went back to the living room – but not before a side trip to the kitchen for some scotch. He turned on the news, intent on getting his mind to some subject besides his Bolly.

##########

_Gene stood by the river. Someone was approaching from behind. He didn't have to turn around to know who it was._

"_Back again?" Sam asked, coming to stand beside him. "Can't we meet at the Railway Arms? Or Luigi's? I could use a change of scenery."_

_Gene didn't answer. That didn't deter Sam. Never did._

"_What are you doing, Gene?" Sam went on. "What are you doing?"_

"_Leave me be, Sam."_

"_Why won't you let her go?"_

"_I told her to leave!"_

"_Yet you hang on as tight as you can. Telling her to leave isn't the same as letting her go."_

"_It's – I – " Gene clenched his fists. "I can't."_

"_Why?"_

"_I can't!"_

_Sam moved to stand in front of him. "Come on, Gene," Sam whispered. "Say it." Gene stayed quiet. Sam tried again, a little louder. "Tell me why you don't let Alex go."_

_Gene gave up. "I love her," he said._

_A look of disbelief came over Sam's face. "You great soft sissy girly nancy French bender Man City supporting poof!" he exclaimed. _

_Gene winced at the words, remembering when he'd used them against his DI. "Shut it!" he snapped._

_Sam burst out laughing. "How the mighty have fallen! Gene Hunt in love!" He took a few steps back, held out his arms and began singing. _"_She tied you to a kitchen chair. She broke your throne and she cut your hair. And from your lips she drew the 'Hallelujah!'_"

_The song took Gene by surprise. "You used to sing that," he said. "You'd get drunk and sing. Said it was your favorite song."_

"_Yeah. It's a great song. I'm partial to the John Cale version. I never really understood it until Annie. And now you understand it, too, don't you?" Sam walked back to Gene. "It's amazing, isn't it? What they do to us? They take us apart, piece by piece. They find all the broken parts and heal them. Then they put us back together again. And we come out stronger. Love does that. All those joys and sorrows and we still say, 'Hallelujah!' And you loved her through all of it. So now you know. And now you have to let her go."_

"_I'm not keepin' her!" Gene insisted._

"_Not keeping her?__" Sam laughed again. "'Your presence is required just a little bit longer round here. By me! I thought we'd sorted all this, Bolls. You're not going anywhere unless I say so. And I don't say so.' Not keeping her? You're hanging on as tight as you can! __You even put an anchor around her neck! Very symbolic."_

"_No! She's – she's _my_ anchor."_

"_So you're tied to each other."_

"_We have a connection," Gene said, turning his back on Sam and walking away. "Or we did."_

_Sam stayed where he was. "What happened?" he asked. "Besides you being your usual pig-headed self?"_

_Gene looked back at his friend. "She's using me! Gave me some bullshit about – " He stopped, not wanting to go further._

"_About being from the future?" Sam smiled and shook his head. "I guess that did throw you," he went on. "So how is she using you?"_

"_She says she's going back. To 2008! And I'm supposed to wait for her. Twenty-five years!" Gene added softly, "Alone."_

_Sam nodded. "And you've been alone for a long time. And so has Alex." He started singing again. "Maybe I've been here before. I know this room. I've walked this floor. I used to live alone before I knew you."_

"_Stop singing," Gene grumbled. But Sam didn't stop._

"_Maybe there's a God above but all you ever learned from love was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you." Smiling, Sam said, "I told you it's a great song. Of course it's not exactly the right words, but it's you. You strike out and hurt before _you're_ hurt. Alex is afraid, Gene. Terrified she'll never see her child again. You understand that."_

_Gene glared at Sam but didn't reply. He turned away and moved to put more space between them._

"_I know," Sam went on. "Twenty-five years. Takes a lot of faith. Funny thing about that. The Bible says faith no bigger than a mustard seed can move a mountain. Maybe it can move time."_

_Gene stopped in his tracks. "Alex said something like that."_

"_Did she? Hmmm…" Once again Sam drew near to stand beside Gene. "You ever think about the future, Gene? And how much faith it takes to get there? Every step we take is a step into the future. Every minute we live is a moment in the future. And it goes faster than we can fathom. You know how it is. One day you're in 1983. The next, you're in 2008. And you're not even sure how you got there! But it takes faith."_

"_It's too much," Gene whispered. "It's twenty-five years without her."_

_Sam put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I know," he said. "But it's twenty-five years of your life – " He pointed to the right and Gene followed Sam's gaze.. Molly Drake stood a few feet away, her soft blue eyes looking into his. "Or," Sam continued, "twenty-five years – or more - of hers. Years without her mum. And what about Alex herself? If you don't let her go, as much as she loves you, she might begin to resent you. She'll never stop thinking about Molly and missing her."_

_Tears ran down Gene's face and he wiped them away. When he looked up again, Molly was gone. "I don't know…" he whispered._

"_Love is not a victory march," said Sam. "It's a cold and it's a broken 'Hallelujah.'"_

"_More of that fucking song," Gene snorted._

"_Yeah. Told you it was good."_

"_It's bollocks!"_

_Sam laughed. "Maybe it is. You know, Gene, I used to wonder why I ended up on your patch. I think it was to be with Annie. But maybe there was more. It's all about the future and what happens – or doesn't happen - there."_

_Gene looked at him. "I think you're full of shit."_

"_That's a strong possibility."_

_They both laughed, the way they used to. Gene took out a pack of cigarettes. "You really need to give those up," Sam said._

"_Bugger off!" But Gene didn't light up. He put the cigarettes back in his pocket. A wave of sorrow swept over him. "I'm sorry, Sam."_

"_For what?"_

"_That we fell out. That I let you down. That I wasn't there when you needed me."_

_Sam looked down, then at the river, then back to Gene. "I put a lot on you," he said. "And I'm still putting a lot on you. But as for this – " Sam nodded at the water. " – I was angry for a while. But I forgave you. Because that's what friends do, without being asked."_

_Guilt still ate at Gene. "But you and Annie…"_

"_Maybe we were on borrowed time," Sam said, sadness in his eyes and voice. "But I wouldn't give up one minute of what we had together." He held out his hand. "It's time for me to go."_

_Somehow Gene knew this would be the last time he'd see his friend. He took Sam's hand. "You're the best mate I ever had."_

"_Same here. Goodbye, Gene."_

"_Goodbye, Sam."_

_As he walked away, Sam glanced back over his shoulder and smiled. "Have a good future!" he called._

Gene opened his eyes. The TV showed static. He sat up and rubbed his face. Fucking dreams.

But this didn't really feel like a dream. And once again, Gene was left with the idea that Sam had been haunting him – and that this had been the end. Yet those previous dreams had left Gene with a sense of unease. This one left him with a very different feeling. Something he couldn't quite identify.

What time was it? He looked at the VCR. Nearly midnight. Late, but maybe not too late. Gene got up and went to change clothes. He needed to see Alex.

As he left the building, Gene felt Molly nearby. He stopped. "I know you're there," he said quietly. "I'm sorry, Molly. I'm sorry I've kept your mum here so long. I couldn't let go. But maybe now…" He turned in the child's direction, but she was gone. And Gene was certain that he wouldn't see her again – at least for twenty-five years.

##########

_She was in bed. Only it wasn't the bed in her flat. It was – a hospital bed. Alex was in hospital. Molly was there at her bedside, reading aloud. Alex could make out a few of the words. Harry. Owl. Ron. Hermione! Molly was reading one of the _Harry Potter_ books to her! Alex tried to comprehend the exact text, but it was difficult. She wanted to tell Molly to slow down. Maybe she'd be able to figure out which book it was. But every time Alex tried to say something, she just couldn't. Finally, by concentrating, Alex said, "Molly…" But her voice sounded strange to her._

_Molly jumped up from her chair, dropping the book. "Mum!" she exclaimed. "Mum! Evan! Evan! She said my name! Evan!"_

Alex awoke with a start and looked around. Where was Molly? Where – ? No. Wait. This wasn't the hospital. It was the flat above Luigi's. The living room. 1983. The hospital, Molly - just a dream. But what woke her up?

Someone knocked at the door. Again. That was it. That's what woke her. What time was it? As she got up to answer the door, she saw the clock. 12:08. Only one person would be calling at this hour. What was he playing at? Avoiding her all day and this evening. Now showing up at her flat.

Before she could reach the door, there was another soft knock and her visitor said, "Bolly? It's me."

Alex opened the door. "What are you doing here?" she asked, trying not to sound too cross and failing. "It's after midnight. I didn't get much sleep last night and you woke me just now – "

"Can I come in?" Gene asked.

His manner threw her. He seemed almost – apologetic. "Of course," Alex answered, taking a step back. Gene entered and went on to the living room. She followed. His eyes darted around the room before finally landing on the portrait of Molly. An odd expression came over his face.

"What is it?" Alex asked.

Gene faced her. "I thought we could talk."

"Now?" She folded her arms. "You couldn't come here earlier? I'm not exactly in the right frame of mind to talk. I don't feel like arguing. You made yourself quite clear last night and I can't blame you for feeling as you do. And I'm sorry. I really am – "

"I believe you," Gene interrupted.

Alex felt her jaw drop. She stared at Gene. His mouth was set and his eyes bored into hers. "What did you say?" she asked.

"Everything you've told me," he answered. "About the future. About Molly. About being hurt and in a coma. Everything. I believe you."

**TBC**


	18. Going Home

**Author's note: First of all, yes, this is the last chapter of this AU story _Repercussions_. It was hard to write and I confess that, at times, I didn't want to. But I kept reminding myself that it's not really the end of the story I want to tell. I started with _Aftershock_, then _Repercussions_. The full story will be wrapped up in my next story, tentatively titled _Face the Strange._ Yes, I'm finally getting David Bowie in there.**

**Second, thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who has been patient in following this story that's taken me so long to finish. You're all very dear to me and I can't begin properly to show my appreciation. I hope you enjoy this last chapter.**

**Third, my apologies. Not only for taking so long to get this posted. I have to apologize in advance because I will not be able to respond right away to any reviews or comments. I'll be away from my PC for the next few days. I will respond as soon as I can.**

**Last of all, thank you again for all the lovely reviews and Alert and Favorite listings. I'm humbled and grateful.**

**Oh, one more thing. The song lyrics used in this chapter are an anachronism. They are from the song _Maybe_ by Ingrid Michaelson, released in 2009. When I first heard the song, it was so perfect for Alex and Gene that I had to use it.**

**All things "Ashes to Ashes" are the property of BBC, Kudos, etc. All original characters are the products of my own imagination and no resemblance to any person, living or dead, is intended, either through name or personality or actions.**

**Repercussions**

**Chapter 18**

**Going Home**

_I don't wanna be the one to say goodbye. But I will, I will, I will._

_I don't wanna sit on the pavement while you fly._

_But I will, I will, oh, yes, I will._

They sat at opposite ends of the sofa. Gene was on one end, leaning forward, elbows on knees, playing with a cigarette but making no move to light it. Alex was curled up in the corner opposite him, hands clasped in her lap. She studied Gene carefully, noting that he was ill-at-ease. Alex herself felt tense and unsure. During the past few months, the two of them had gotten closer. They spoke of their lives with more ease, confessed their deepest feelings with more confidence and trust. But those revelations also made them more vulnerable. Alex and Gene were people who had been deeply hurt in the past and found trust difficult. Any perceived violation of that trust and they pushed away.

Gene had felt Alex violated that trust with her insistence on the future and demands that he take care of her and Molly. So he pushed her away. Now, without any further prompting from Alex, he returned to say, "I believe you."

He continued to hold the cigarette. Alex turned to the end table, knowing a candle and matches were there. She took the box of matches and struck one, holding it out for Gene. His attention drawn to her actions, he leaned forward to light his cigarette. Alex blew out the match. The simple gesture seemed to ease the tension between them.

"Why?" Alex asked aloud.

Gene met her gaze. He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Just that," she returned. "Why do you suddenly believe me?"

"Women!" he snorted. "Not enough for me to say I believe everything. No. Women always want to know why."

"So I'm just supposed to say, 'Thank you, dearest' and be done with it? You've changed your mind this fast. How am I to know you won't change it again?"

"Because I'm not a woman!" Gene snapped. "I don't let hormones and the time of month do my thinking for me! I'm not ruled by my emotions!"

"Not ruled by your emotions?" Alex huffed in exasperation. She crossed her arms. "Who's the one always going on about his gut instinct? I'll match my reasoning skills against your gut anytime!"

"Gut instinct isn't emotion! It's – " Gene stood. Alex half expected him to leave. Instead, he paced and smoked and seemed to ignore her. She knew they were fighting in order delay the real issue. The idea of the future and what it might hold for them was still hard to face. Neither of them said anything. But Gene stopped pacing and stood in front of Molly's picture, examining it for a moment. That action puzzled Alex. Why was he now so interested in the portrait? She was about to ask when he turned to face her. He tilted his head back a little, in that cocky, self-assured way that she always found irritating and endearing.

"Gut instinct isn't emotion," he said. "It's survival when you're young. It's experience when you're grown. It's seeing everything and putting it together." He sat beside her again. "The computer."

"The computer?"

"That first day. You sat down at my desk and complained that the computer didn't work. You expected it to do more."

Alex nodded. "I use – used PCs – personal computers everyday. For – everything. Research. Information. Entertainment."

"Yeah, yeah. That's just it. You thought my computer should do the same." Gene ground out the cigarette and reached for another, then put the pack down, not taking one. "Just like Sam," he said, meeting Alex's gaze. "He talked about computers sometimes. And he knew things, like you do. Things that were gonna happen. Songs. Movies. Like you watching _The Man from Snowy River_ the other night. I don't even know if you were aware of it. You'd grab my arm or lean forward or say, 'Watch!' Then something would happen, like Jessica falling or Jim following the horses down the mountain. And – the Prices. You knew what would happen. The explosion. You knew where and when and you were frantic."

The emotions of that day came back to Alex. Being so close to saving them – and failing – and seeing them die. She looked away, trying not to cry.

"There!" Gene said. "The way you look right now. When you're trying to control your emotions. You purse your lips. Just like you did that day. When you were – " He paused. "When you were eight years old. And I carried you into CID." Alex met his eyes. They were full of compassion and love. "You were shaking and so scared and I told you it would be all right."

"I don't remember that it was you," she whispered. "I only remember that someone held me and made me feel safe."

Gene reached out to touch her cheek. "I don't know how you got here. I'm not sure why. But I do know there's another little girl who needs to feel safe. And you belong with her."

"Gene," Alex sobbed. He pulled her into his arms, letting her cry on his shoulder. After a minute she got control. "What happens now?" she asked.

He eased her away and smiled. "Don't you know?"

"No."

"I do." Gene stood. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," Alex nodded.

"Will you do what I say?"

"Yes."

He held out his hand. Alex took it and stood. "If you tell me to click my heels together and say, 'There's no place like home…'" she said, smiling.

"Nah. Nothing that complicated," Gene answered.

"Then what?"

Gene began to lead the way to the bedroom. "We get some kip. Don't know about you, but I'm knackered."

##########

Alex lay curled up, sound asleep, at Gene's side. She seemed more at peace than he'd seen in a very long time. He, on the other hand, was wide awake and felt more troubled. His explanation about changing his mind was only partly true. After his dream about Sam, Gene had awakened knowing that Alex was not delusional or lying. She was from the future, just like Sam. But while he wanted to tell her, Gene wasn't sure about how to say it. _Sam visits me in my dreams and made me see that you're from the future._ _Oh, and_ _Molly's been following me around._

But it all came down to something Sam had said. Faith and trust. Did Gene have it in him to believe in Alex? And to believe in himself enough to let her go – and wait?

And in the end, he came to one conclusion: it was worth the chance.

Gene had never considered himself to be a man of great faith. But now he understood that he had to find that belief. He'd need it if he was to spend the next twenty-five years without the woman he loved.

So it was a leap of faith. Giving up Alex in the hopes of finding her again. And while it broke his heart, Gene knew it was important. For a lot of reasons.

##########

Alex woke with the first light. She felt Gene behind her, his body matching the curve of hers, so that they were nestled like spoons. His arm was draped over her waist, and Alex enjoyed the way their bodies fit perfectly together.

Carefully easing away, trying not to disturb him, Alex managed to turn around to face Gene. He didn't wake, but rolled onto his back. She studied his handsome features, taking in the scars on his face and the lines around his eyes. The signs of a life that hadn't been easy. Yet for all his rough edges, Gene Hunt had never given up his humanity. He still wanted to help others. He cared for his team. He believed in justice.

And he loved Alex Drake.

That was a mystery she found hard to comprehend. Gene was a man who claimed to want a subservient woman. Yet he'd fallen in love with her. Not just a woman who defied him at every turn when she arrived, but a woman who'd eventually become his boss. At least in title. Their life together these past few months had been like a dream. In spite of their spats, in spite of out and out furious arguments, they always found their way past those times. Alex felt they were stronger for it.

But they also had fun. Days off, when they could spend time exploring London or the surrounding country – or each other – those were times Alex treasured. Gene wasn't the Guv then. He was a man who opened up and shared his heart and soul with her. Not a lot, of course. But he'd mention something from his childhood or a case that affected him or a time with Sam. Little things that gave Alex insight to Gene Hunt.

When she'd first landed there, Alex had been amazed to find herself so attracted to him. Everything Sam had related about Gene led her to think that he was the kind of man she'd despise. Maybe Sam had claimed to find a heart in his DCI. Alex knew that she'd just find him entirely disagreeable and loathsome.

But then she had seen glimpses of the man Sam had described. Gene was not just the most brilliant detective she'd ever known. That alone intrigued her. But there was a vulnerable side to Gene that drew her in and made her want to know him better. And somewhere along the line, she'd fallen in love, a love so strong and deep it stunned her. She'd had no idea that she was capable of feeling this way.

And now she was planning to leave him. And even though it would be to return to her daughter, the knowledge that Gene would be alone for so long broke her heart.

There was still a chance that nothing would ever happen, that she'd stay where she was. Alex wondered sometimes if this world was real. If Gene was real. How could it be? To travel back in time to this man who changed her life? That was impossible.

But her feelings for him were as real as anything she'd ever known.

And now she was going to hurt him.

"It'll be all right, Bolly."

Startled, Alex met Gene's silver-blue eyes. As her mind had wandered, so had her gaze. She hadn't even realized that he was awake. While she was so troubled about what might happen, Gene appeared resigned to whatever the fates had in store for them.

"I'm so sorry, Gene," she whispered. "I never meant to hurt you."

He put his arms around her. "Shhh. It'll be all right," he said.

##########

For the rest of the week, Gene was on edge, not sure what would happen. He couldn't help thinking that Alex would disappear at any moment. Alex herself didn't act any differently. Gene wondered if that was because she was used acting as if there was nothing unusual about her being there. During the day, she was the same efficient copper she'd been from Day One. In the evenings at Luigi's, they kept a routine of talking about work. It was all to maintain that illusion that everything was the same, even while they knew that it wasn't. Everything had changed with Gene's believing that Alex was from the future.

As night fell, however, they would cling to each other, as if knowing that their time was short. Their lovemaking was gentle, yet there was urgency to it. Even in their sleep, Gene or Alex would reach out, as if to assure themselves that the other was there.

Gene was relieved about one thing. There were no more dreams of Sam – and no more visions of Molly. Gene's acceptance of Alex's story seemed to have gotten them off his back. But their message had been clear and it remained on his mind.

On Friday evening Alex and Gene sat at their usual table in Luigi's, sharing a bottle of red wine and celebrating the conviction of Ronnie Breen for the murder of Ralphie Leech and the hit-and-run of Billy Winston. The little boy had made a full recovery from his injuries and had visited Fenchurch East that afternoon.

"Here's to justice," Alex said, raising her glass.

Gene returned the toast. "And to brave little boys."

Alex's eyes softened and Gene felt embarrassed. He hadn't even realized the connection to his son as he said the words. His Bolly would claim that as his subconscious working – and she'd probably be right. Remembering his own little son made Gene wonder if there might be enough time…

He took her hand, not caring who might see. "Alex, I've not been to my Billy's grave in a few months. Would you go with me this weekend?"

She searched his face, then smiled. "Yes," she said.

##########

Early Saturday morning they left for Manchester. The drive started with general conversation. But Alex gently turned the subject to Gene's life before London. To her relief, he didn't resist. He'd been alone, keeping to himself most of his life. Gene based all his relationships on trust. Without that, there could be nothing else. Sam had been his closest friend, and Alex was sure that her fellow time traveler had heard these stories. And now Gene had Alex, a woman who had become his colleague and partner, then friend, and now lover.

So few close relationships. Gene had lost Sam. And now, he was faced with losing Alex. And being alone again. The fact that he could accept that she would leave and still love her broke Alex's heart. Why did it have to be that way?

"Never thought I'd leave Manchester," Gene told her. "Except for national service, never lived anywhere else. I love it. It's my city." He was quiet for a moment before adding, "It _was_ my city. After everything that happened – Billy, Madeleine, Sam – it just didn't feel like home anymore."

"What about your parents?" asked Alex. "And Sam told me you had a brother who died."

Again there was silence and Alex thought she might've pushed a little too much. But Gene answered, "Mam died a few months before Sam. She was the strongest person I've ever known. Put both you and me to shame. My dad didn't do well after the war. Heard him say that he gave his best years to the army and he had nothin' left. Drank too much. Bad with his temper. Had a hard time keeping a job. Mam kept us together and kept us goin'. She was a marvel – even with a husband who took everything out on her. At least he did until I got old enough to protect her. He died when I was seventeen.

"Stu was – he never – " Gene stopped talking. Alex waited, but when he didn't speak again, she stole a glance at him. His knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel. He caught her eye and relaxed his hold. She placed a hand on his arm.

"I was lucky, Alex," he explained. "I always knew who I was and what I was meant to do. I was put on this earth to protect people who couldn't protect themselves. And to punish the ones who hurt others. But Stuart had no idea what he was or what he was supposed to do. He was brilliant. Could've gone to university if he'd made up his mind to it. But he was a working class kid who never saw a decent future for himself. He looked like his dad and decided to be like him. Couldn't keep a job. Got into fights. Finally took to drugs. Disappeared from home. I looked for him. Found him in the morgue."

"I'm so sorry, Gene."

He squeezed her hand in thanks, but said nothing more.

##########

The sun was out when they arrived in Manchester. The air was cool, but not uncomfortable. They stopped at a flower shop on the way. Gene seemed surprised when Alex bought a several bouquets as well. "You don't mind?" she asked.

"No," he replied, shaking his head.

As they had neared the city, Gene had grown more quiet. That continued now as they drove to the cemetery. Alex understood that it was difficult for Gene to share this moment, and she was touched by his decision to ask her to come with him.

There were a few other people around, but no one near graves of the Hunt family. Gene took off his driving gloves and left them in the Quattro. He slowly led the way. They put bouquets first at the headstones of his parents and Stuart. Then they turned to Billy's grave and laid flowers there. They stood in silence for a moment. Gene took Alex's hand in his.

"He was a good boy, my Billy," he said. "Smart. Loved games and puzzles and silly jokes. Funny how kids can understand jokes so young. He could read and write some. He'd write out his name. William James Hunt. When he was feeling well, he always wanted to kick the ball around. Loved watching football with me.

"He'd be a man now. Eighteen. I think he'd've been a good man. I'd've done all I could to make him a good one."

Gene's grip tightened a bit. Alex entwined her fingers with his and put her head on his shoulder, wanting to be as close as possible. As close as he'd allow in this moment.

"I dream about him," Gene continued. "He's a little older in my dreams, but not much. He's still a kid. And he's healthy and strong. He's always running. Sometimes I run alongside him. Sometimes he's ahead of me and I can't keep up. I tell him to slow down, come back. And he just looks back at me and laughs and keeps running. Don't need to be a psychologist to figure that one.

"I miss him. He was my boy, and I miss him."

They stood a moment. Alex was surprised to find herself saying a silent prayer for her lover and the son he'd lost so long ago. She thought that she'd lost her faith years ago. But she felt moved to say a prayer, especially for Gene. Did anyone ever truly recover from the death of a child?

Gene turned his head toward her. "I suppose in your time there's a cure for leukemia," he said.

Alex straightened. "If you mean a shot or a vaccine, no," she replied. "Always research and new treatments. Sometimes the cancer goes into remission. But there are no guarantees."

Returning his attention to the grave, Gene said, "It's not right. Kids shouldn't suffer."

"No, they shouldn't."

"Alex, would you – " His voice trailed off.

She understood. "I'll wait in the car."

##########

Gene lay on the hotel bed, listening to the shower running in the bathroom as Alex got ready for dinner. He was glad that he'd brought her to Manchester. As difficult as it was for him, he wanted to share this part of his life with her. And this would be their only chance. When they got back to London…

He put aside thoughts of their return as Alex emerged from the bathroom, wearing his robe, her hair wrapped in a towel. "So," she said. "Did you think about calling Madeleine?"

"I did. She and Zoe are on their way to London. Zoe's parents' anniversary. Not sure we're ready to break bread together anyway."

"Maybe not. Where are you taking me for dinner?"

He stood and went to her. "It's a surprise. Just wear something slutty."

"Sorry. I only brought sexy, not slutty."

"Bugger."

Alex giggled. "Bathroom's all yours," she said.

"Then give me my robe."

"I'll bring it in."

"Now."

"It's cold in here!"

Gene pulled her close and kissed her hard. Alex melted in his embrace. He untied the sash of the robe and slipped his arms around her waist. "Gene," she sighed.

"Warmed up?" he asked.

"Mm-hmm." She left a trail of kisses along his jaw.

"Good." Gene pushed the robe off her shoulders and swept it away from her. "Thanks," he said, walking into the bathroom.

Alex gasped as the cool air hit her bare skin. "Bastard!"

##########

It was twilight when they left the hotel. "Why are we in such a rush? A bit early for dinner, isn't it?" Alex asked.

"Thought we'd go for a drink first," Gene answered.

Alex stopped in her tracks. "The Railway Arms?"

Scowling at her, Gene said, "See, that's the problem dating another detective. Can't surprise 'em. Always figure things out. We'll have dinner at another place, but yeah, Railway Arms first. Almost everyone I know will be there."

"Even on a Saturday night?"

"Why not?"

Grinning, Alex nodded. "Is this why you asked me to wear something slutty?"

"Nah. That was just for me."

She took a step back and gave him a sly look. "And what do you think?"

Gene examined her. "Red dress huggin' every curve. Perfect."

"Thank you." She ran a finger down the front of his shirt. "You're very handsome, too, in your new suit."

"All right, all right," he groused, a little embarrassed. "Let's get in the car."

##########

As they entered, Alex's first impression was that it was exactly as Sam had described it. Nothing fancy. Just a good neighborhood pub. They stood just inside the door and looked around. Some men were playing darts. There were a few couples at tables. The music was low and people could hear each other talk. Overall, there was a _feeling_ about the place that was hard to pinpoint. Then Alex realized what it was: camaraderie. These people were cops. They worked hard together. At the pub, they could relax and talk and even fall in love. They could ignore the bad part of the job and laugh about the good things. Alex wasn't certain, but she'd be willing to bet a month's wages that cop bars were the same the world over.

A lyrical voice rang out, loud enough for all to hear. "Mon brave! Guv!"

The accent, the dreadlocks, the great smile. This had to be Nelson. "Come in!" the bartender continues. "Everyone! The Guv is back!"

Gene and Alex were suddenly surrounded by cops of all ages. Everyone wanted to shake hands with the Guv. Alex marveled at the way he was greeted. She was content to watch but noticed that most everyone was eyeing her with open curiosity and nodding in her direction.

Nelson finally asked the question on everyone's mind. "Guv! Who's this fine lady you've brought?"

For a moment, Gene seemed at a loss for words. How was he supposed to introduce her? _Girlfriend? Colleague? _Or, worst of all, _Boss?_ Then he recovered.

"This is DCI Alex Drake of the Metropolitan Police. Excellent copper. And, no, we're not here on business. We're here to get a drink. Who's buying?"

"First is on the house," Nelson replied. "After that, you're on your own."

They seated themselves at a nearby table and for the next hour, Alex got to know members of the Manchester Police. She and Gene sidestepped questions about their relationship, although Alex was in no doubt that the detectives had things figured out. There were some notable absences from the place. "I was hoping to meet Phyllis," she said to Gene.

"She retired last year," he replied. "Moved to some little village where her cousin lives, near the Scottish border. Probably started solving crimes there, like a grumpy Miss Marple."

Leaning closer, Alex said, "And Annie?"

Gene just shook his head and she let the subject drop.

"I'm going to the bar to get another glass of wine," Alex said, standing up. "Do you want anything?"

"Another pint."

Nelson smiled as she approached the bar. "Another red for me, please," Alex said. "And another pint for the Guv."

"Happy to oblige," he said. Nelson nodded toward Gene. "Good to see the Guv happy again. I think you had something to do with that. He was a very sad man when he left Manchester."

Something about the last few sentences caught Alex's attention. Nelson's Caribbean accent had vanished. Just as Sam had told her. The stereotypical island persona was an act Nelson assumed for most of the customers. She said as much to the bartender and he raised an eyebrow.

"You knew Sam?" he asked.

"Well, we never met, but we corresponded."

"I see." Nelson poured the wine, then gave her a searching look. "Tell me, Alex, do you come from the same place as Sam?"

Startled, Alex took a step back. She could feel the blood drain from her face. "What do you mean?" she asked.

Nelson refilled Gene's glass. "Sam sometimes seemed out of place when he first got here. After a time, he settled in. But he always had a look in his eye, like he knew something no one else did. Except maybe for Annie." He placed the glass on the bar and leaned forward. "You have the same look about you. But there's one big difference."

Did Nelson really know about Sam? Or was it just the observations of a man accustomed to reading people? "And what's that?" Alex asked. "What's the difference?"

"Once Sam settled in, he belonged here. But you. You don't really belong here, do you? There's somewhere else you want to be. Need to be." Alex looked away. Nelson went on. "It'll be all right. The Guv will be fine, mon cher."

Again the bartender had surprised her. Alex met his eyes. "Will he?"

"Yes. And he'll be there when you need him. It's his way. You'll do the same. I know. Have faith."

Looking into Nelson's dark eyes, Alex was tempted to believe all that he said. Sam had said that Nelson seemed to know things, understand…

"Where are you from, Nelson?"

"It's not where we're from," he replied. "It's where we are and what we do there. Me? I'm where I belong." He held out his hand. "It's good to meet you, Alex."

Alex shook his hand and smiled. "And you, Nelson."

##########

There was something different about being in Manchester. In London, they had to be careful and avoid being seen out together, especially at any posh places. Harder to explain than sharing a table at Luigi's. But in Manchester, Gene felt he could take Alex to the finest restaurant. Nearly every man checked her out as they walked in. Gene practically felt the buttons pop on his shirt. The most beautiful woman in the place – and she was with him.

He asked if she wanted to go dancing after dinner, but Alex shook her head. She reached over and placed her hand on his. "Let go back to the hotel," she said softly.

When he'd called for the hotel reservation, Gene had requested a king-sized bed. They made good use of the extra space, stretching out and taking time to explore and arouse. And it was fun to roll over and not worry about sending the other off the side.

Afterward, they lay facing each other. Alex ran her fingers through Gene's hair and traced his jaw, ending at his chin. "Have I ever told you I love this cleft in your chin?" she asked.

"I think you might've mentioned it once or twice," he returned, smiling at her.

"Have I ever told you that I love you?"

He took her hand and kissed her fingertips. "Once or twice."

##########

Gene looked at the clock. It was after midnight. Alex lay by his side, sleeping peacefully. But once again, Gene found that he couldn't sleep. It was Sunday morning. In a few hours, they'd be going back to London. And once there…

Rolling to his side, he gazed at the beautiful woman who had changed his life. He wanted to memorize everything about her. Before it was too late.

##########

They took their time going back to London. While they chatted during the trip, there were long stretches when they hardly spoke. As they got closer to the city, Gene looked at her. "Bolly? Tell me about that day. When all this started. When Layton shot you."

Puzzled, Alex replied, "I thought I'd told you everything."

"I'm just trying to understand how it could've happened. Why you came here."

"I thought it was to save my parents, but – but that didn't change." Alex looked out the side window. "That day at South Bank," she began, "I did everything wrong."

##########

_I don't want to be the first to let it go, but I know, I know, I know,_

_If you have the last hands that I want to hold, then I know I've got to let them go._

As they climbed the stairs to the flat, Alex started to shiver a little. She knew what was coming, had known it all weekend.

"What would you like for dinner?" Alex asked as they went in. "We can go back out for something or I can see what I have here." She went into the kitchen and began opening cupboard doors while Gene deposited her suitcase in the bedroom.

"I'll make us a pot of tea first," continued Alex. "Then we can decide on dinner."

Gene stopped at the entrance to the kitchen and held out his hand. Alex stopped her rummaging and walked over to him. She slipped her hand into his and he led her to the sofa. "Don't say it," she whispered.

"I have to. Don't you see?"

Alex swallowed hard, trying to ease the tightness in her throat.

Gene took a deep breath. It was one of the hardest things he'd ever do, but it was time. "You can go, Alex."

Beautiful hazel eyes searched his. He could see the heartbreak there. "Go," she echoed.

"I told you that you couldn't leave until I said you could. Well, I'm telling you now. You can leave. Go home to Molly."

"Gene –" Alex gripped his hand, her eyes now on the floor.

"You asked why I believe you now. The truth is, I didn't want to. I had dreams about Sam."

"Sam?"

"Yeah. Like he was haunting me. Kept telling me that I had to let you go. I don't know if it was really him or my conscience. If I could, I'd keep you here forever. But I don't have that choice."

Alex put her arms around him. "Why does it have to be this way?" she sobbed.

"I don't know, luv," Gene admitted, holding her tightly for a moment before releasing her. "I just know that Molly needs you and you need her." He smiled a little. "She's been letting me know that for weeks now."

Looking at him in confusion, Alex asked, "What are you talking about?"

Gene got up from the sofa and walked over to Molly's portrait. The child's blue eyes seemed to reach inside of him. "She's been following me. I knew somebody was there. Thought it was one of Wilkins's men. Caught somebody, too. Ben Owen. Told Wilkins to back off. But that didn't stop the feeling I kept having. Somebody else was there. I never could see who it was. Finally I realized it was a little girl. Molly. Like she was asking me when her mum was coming home."

Turning back around, Gene smiled at Alex. "She needs you and you need her."

"But – how could she – " Alex was pale with fright. "She's haunting you? Like a -"

"No." He sat again and took her hands. "You've seen her, waiting for you. Maybe that's why I can see her, too. Or maybe it's my conscience again. I don't know."

Some color had returned to Alex's cheeks. "I had a dream about her the other night," she said, her eyes on the portrait. "She was reading to me while I was in the coma. I said her name. She was so excited. I miss her." Alex returned her gaze to Gene. "But you…"

"I'm a grown man. I'll be fine. Molly needs you. She's a young girl who needs her mother. And you need her. If I kept you here, you'd never really be happy. And soon you'd regret it and you'd be angry with me."

"No." Fresh tears came to her eyes. Gene cupped her face.

"Bolly. It'll be all right. You go back. And when you wake up, I'll be there." He grinned at her. "By my figuring, I'll be 71 years old. And when you're well and strong, I'm gonna shag your brains out." Alex started laughing. "I'm gonna live to be 100 and I'm gonna spend that time with you," he went on. "And I'm gonna die in your arms – hopefully after shaggin' you one last time."

She put her arms around his neck. "I'll hold you to that."

"I hope so."

##########

Although he had planned to leave, Gene stayed the night with Alex. They knew it would be their last time together. In so many ways, it was like their first time, full of love and need and promise. But it was, at the same time, bittersweet. Alex cried and Gene held her, stroking her hair and wondering how he could get the coming years without her.

The next morning was all the more difficult as he gathered some of his things. Alex watched him, sadness in her eyes. "I suppose we do need to do this," she said.

"I think it's better if we make it a clean break," Gene replied. "That way – " He paused. "I'll – I'll get your things from my place and bring them over."

"And I'll do the same here with your things."

He smiled a little. "You'll give me back my socks, won't you?"

Alex laughed. "Yes, I'll give you back your socks."

Gene went to her. He lifted her chin and kissed her softly. Then he left.

##########

On Wednesday evening, Chris and Shaz were at their usual table at Luigi's when Ray, uninvited, dragged a chair over to sit with them.

"Whaddaya reckon?" the DS asked.

"About what?" Chris returned.

"The Guv and Drake." Ray gave a quick nod in the direction of Gene's table. Their Guv sat alone, drinking and smoking. Alex was nowhere to be seen.

"I reckon they broke up," Shaz said.

The men nodded, but Ray wasn't satisfied with leaving it there. "It's unnatural," he said. "They don't seem angry at each other. He's not yellin'. She's not freezin' him out. That doesn't make any sense."

"Yeah," Chris agreed. "They just seem – sad."

"Sometimes that's the way it is," Shaz told them. "Just sad."

##########

Alex had thought that as the week went on, she'd begin to adjust to being without Gene. But it was harder than she could have imagined. They managed to work together, but she longed to go home with him and spend the evenings in his company and the nights in his arms. The pain of being without him wasn't just in her heart but in her soul.

She would catch herself looking in his direction, hoping that he would do the same to her. And he often did. For that moment, it was as if they were still lovers as well as friends. Then one of them would glance away.

Gene spent as much time as possible away from the station. It hurt too much to know that Alex was there, so close – but that they had to be apart. A few times he was ready to believe that he was a chump to accept all this nonsense about the future. She might be right there at Fenchurch East for the next five or ten years and they'd have to be apart all that time.

He got back to the station late Thursday afternoon, thinking that Alex would be gone. But she was just putting on her suit jacket when he came in. No one else was in CID. It was their first time alone together since Monday morning.

"How are you?" she asked.

"All right," Gene said. "You?"

"Fine." She hesitated, then added. "I have all your things together. It took a while to find everything." Alex's eyes went to the floor, then back to him. "And it was painful to do."

"For me, too, Bolly," he admitted.

They stood together a moment, neither wanting it to end. Gene finally broke the silence. "You know the team wants to celebrate your birthday tomorrow night."

Alex smiled. "I'd like that."

He returned the smile. "Act surprised."

"I'm not supposed to know?"

"Course not. But I just didn't want you taking off for your flat and getting into your jammies. Just go along with it when Shaz suggests a drink."

"I will." She moved toward the door. "Are you going to be staying here long?"

"No. I was going to check some files, but that can wait till tomorrow." Gene walked out with her, turning out the lights as they left. Alex paused for a moment, looking back toward her office.

"Funny," she said. "I feel as though I've left something undone." She shook her head. "Oh, well. Can't think of it. As you said, it can wait."

The station was quiet as they left. Gene got out his cigarettes but didn't light up right away. "Alex," he said. "I can bring your things around this evening."

He saw her stiffen, but then she nodded. "All right. In about an hour?"

"Yeah."

##########

By the time Gene arrived, Alex had showered and changed – and had a drink. Anything to dull the pain she felt. He came in with a rather large box. Strange how she could have accumulated so much since landing here with only the clothes on her back. "Just take it into the living room," she directed. "Your things are in there, too."

"Right." Gene went through and deposited the box on the floor, next to two smaller boxes. "That's about it then," he said. He turned to Alex and frowned. "Almost everything."

"What?"

A pained expression came to Gene's face. "Something Sam said in my dream. 'You even put an anchor around her neck.'"

Alex gasped and placed a hand over the gold pendant. Gene's Christmas present. "No," she whispered. "I haven't taken it off since you gave it to me."

"I know." Gene crossed the room. "I might not have thought of it if I hadn't seen it just now."

Tears rolled unchecked down Alex's cheeks. "Please. Don't."

She was his anchor. She kept him from drifting. But Gene knew that Sam wouldn't have mentioned the pendant if it wasn't important. "It's time, Bolly," he said.

"It's all I have of you," she said pleadingly.

"I'm sorry."

Alex closed her eyes as Gene unclasped the necklace. He held it for a moment before putting it in his coat pocket. Then he went back to the boxes.

"It's really over," Alex said, wiping away her tears.

He turned to face her again. "Yeah."

Looking into those beautiful blue eyes, Alex thought of the future. If she did go home, Gene would stay here. Alone. For a long time. "Gene, there's something I want you to do," she said. "I know I've asked so much of you, but I want you to hear me out."

"What?"

She went over to him. "I want you to make a life for yourself. If you find someone you can love, I want you to be with her. Marry her. Have kids. Make a life for yourself." Damn it, she was crying again. Alex ignored the tears. "Promise me! Don't be alone!"

Giving her a sad smile, Gene said, "That's not gonna happen, Bolly."

"It might. You deserve to be happy, Gene!"

He brushed away her tears and kissed her softly. "I will be."

##########

Alex woke before dawn the next day. Through habit she reached for Gene. But he wasn't there. Rolling over, she looked up at the ceiling. She hadn't gotten much sleep. For a long time she'd lain there, crying, before drifting off.

"Happy birthday, Alex," she murmured.

Knowing that she wouldn't get back to sleep, she threw back the covers and climbed out of bed. _Showered last night – and no one to shower with this morning. May as well go in early._

Dawn was breaking as she left the flat. The street was quiet. No one was in sight.

No. Wait. There was someone. Alex saw a child out of the corner of her eye.

A young girl.

Whipping around, Alex saw the girl going around the corner, her long brown hair blowing in the light breeze.

Molly!

No. It couldn't be. Not her Molly. Not _here_!

Without quite realizing what she was doing, Alex began to run toward the corner. She rounded it, only to see the girl going into an alleyway. _What would she be doing there?_

"Molly!" she called. Alex ran to the alley.

Dizziness swept over her and Alex wondered if there was a gas leak or something. And she was thirsty. So thirsty. Nauseous. What was wrong with her?

The girl was nowhere in the alleyway. But there was something there, at the end. An open doorway. Light streamed out of the opening. Alex found herself moving closer to it, without thought or reason.

Another wave of dizziness hit. Her head felt so heavy. What was wrong with her?

"Mum!"

Molly's voice!

"Mum! Come back to me. To us!"

Alex squinted in the light of the doorway. She tried to move forward, but her legs felt like lead. Every movement was incredibly hard. "Molly," she whispered.

"I love you, Mum. Please come back."

She was shaking, perspiring. Her coat was so heavy. Alex tried to take it off but gave up. She took another step. Leaning against the building, she tried to catch her breath. Even that was proving more and more difficult. "I'm coming, Molly," she whispered. "I'm trying…"

"Bolly!"

Gene's voice! Where was he? Alex saw him. Standing behind Molly.

"Come on, Bolls. You can come back to us."

"Mum. Please."

Alex took another step and then another. The door was so close. Just a few more steps…

##########

Gene opened his eyes. What woke him? It was too early to get up. But he was wide awake now. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he listened carefully, trying to figure out what had bothered him. But there was nothing except the usual morning noises of his neighbors.

He looked over at the empty side of the bed. Bolly. He missed waking up beside her. It was her birthday today. Gene had planned on giving her a pair of earrings. Peridot, to go with her eyes. And because it was _his_ birthstone. A way to sort of claim her.

But he had no claim on her now.

Alex.

That's what woke him. He thought he'd heard her voice. He must have dreamed it.

So why was his gut telling him to check on her?

He grabbed the phone and dialed her number. No answer. He tried again ten minutes later. Still no answer. There was no answer at her desk phone, either. Now really worried, Gene quickly got dressed.

Twenty minutes later, he was at Alex's door. There was no answer. "Bolly!" he called. "It's me. Open up." Digging into his pocket, he got his key to the flat, glad that he'd not returned it to her. After all, he'd always had a key to the place, even before she arrived.

An icy feeling went up his spine as Gene opened the door. Somehow he knew, even before he entered, what he might find.

Alex was gone.

The flat was empty. The furniture was still there. But there was no sign of Alex anywhere. All that she'd added, those things that made it a home, weren't there. The cupboards in the kitchen were empty. The bookshelves were bare. Gene went from room to room, looking for something that belonged to Alex. But now, there was nothing that said, "Alex Drake lives here."

Finally, he went into the bedroom. It was the same. Nothing of hers was there.

Gene sat on the bed. The bed he had shared with her so many nights. No red sheets on it now. Just plain white cotton covered the mattress.

Nothing of Alex.

Except… he could still smell her perfume.

He didn't know how long he sat there, trying to figure it all. And it wasn't as though he hadn't expected it. He just hadn't thought it would be like this.

Slowly Gene got to his feet. What if know one else remembered her? Would he be the only one?

Walking back into the living room, something caught his eye. He looked above the little fireplace.

Molly's portrait was still there.

Gene took the picture down. He traced the outline of the child's face. As always, her eyes seemed to reach into him.

He turned and left the flat, taking the portrait with him.

##########

Gene entered Fenchurch East CID. Everyone was there – except Alex. But her name was still on the office door. He looked at the picture of Molly and took it into the office, placing it on the bookcase. As he came back out, Shaz called out to him.

"Guv! Superintendent Wilkins wants to see you right away."

"Right," he answered absently.

When he reached Wilkins's office, Gene didn't bother to knock. But then he really didn't have to. The door was wide open. Wilkins saw him and gestured him in. "Come in, Hunt," the Superintendent said.

An open box sat on the desk. It looked as though Wilkins was packing up. Gene did his best to suppress a smile.

"Go on and gloat," Wilkins grumbled, as if reading Gene's mind. "You and Drake have won. I've been reassigned to Central. Starting Monday Jeffers will be back here – for a while, at least."

As tempting as it was to do as Little Lord Denny said, Gene did his best to hide his happiness at the news. "Jeffers is a good man," he replied.

Wilkins snorted. "He's the only one who would take the job," he sneered. "No one else wants you. However..." Wilkins smirked at Gene. "You lose your partner in crime." Taking some papers from the top of his desk, the superintendent handed them over. "Drake's been transferred, effective immediately, to parts unknown. The paper's marked 'Classified.' And congratulations. You're DCI again. Not my decision. You do have a few friends in high places." He handed Gene a new warrant card. "Now if you'll allow me to get back to work…"

Gene took the papers and turned around to leave the office. But he couldn't resist one last comment. "Goodbye, Denny. Hope you get everything that's coming to you."

##########

Returning to CID, Gene nearly sat at the desk he'd used for the past few months. Strange how quickly habits were formed. He went into the office and placed the papers on the desk. Alex's desk. Shaz came to the door. "Guv, DCI Drake hasn't come in yet. It's near 9:00. Should we check on her?"

"No," he said. Going back out, he called for attention. As soon as everyone settled down, Gene took a breath and let it out slowly.

"DCI Drake has been transferred, effective immediately." He waited for the mumbling and buzzing to die down.

"Why?" Chris asked. "What happened?"

"She – she had a chance to be with her daughter again and took it." Might as well tell the truth.

Ray spoke up. "So where's she gone?"

"Can't say," Gene answered. "Papers say 'Classified.'"

"What? She's gone to the Spooks?" Ray laughed.

Gene scowled. "I told you, I can't say." Let 'em think she's done just that. That'd give Bolly a laugh. He was rewarded by uncomfortable looks from everyone. "One more bit of news," he added. "I'm your DCI again."

He could swear he heard the jaws drop. Then Chris stood and started clapping. Everyone else joined in. Gene held up a hand. "All right, all right. Let's get to work."

"You know," said Shaz, "it's too bad we couldn't give DCI Drake the party for her birthday. But if she can be with her daughter again – " Shaz put a hand protectively over her abdomen. "—I reckon it's worth it."

"That's right, Shaz," Gene agreed.

##########

'_Cause maybe in the future you're gonna come back, you're gonna come back around._

_Maybe in the future you're gonna come back, you're gonna come back._

_Oh, the only way to really know is to really let it go. _

_Maybe in the future you're gonna come back,_

_You're gonna come back to me._

Gene kept busy for the rest of the day. The team wanted to change the planned birthday celebration to a congratulations for him. "Let's make it next week," he told them. "Make sure Lord Denny doesn't try to take it back!"

Most of the time, he was trying not to think of the empty flat about Luigi's. By evening, though, after everyone had left for the day, he was drawn to the place once more.

Nothing had changed since that morning. The beautiful, vibrant woman who'd lived there was now gone. But again Gene was certain that he could still smell her perfume. Everything else that had made this their sanctuary, a place where they could love each other, was gone.

Tears burned at his eyes. His Bolly was gone. And as much as he wanted to believe that he would find her again, right at this moment, it was nearly impossible.

He sat down on the sofa and leaned back, feeling the tears running down his face and not caring. Memories crashed down on him and pain raged through his chest.

Faith. Sam said he had to have faith. But twenty-five years was a long time to wait. Would he even live that long?

Gene sat up and wiped his face. Alex asked him to make a life for himself. But his life was with her. In the future.

He took out his cigarettes. Reaching into his other pocket for his lighter, he instead found the gold chain and anchor pendant. The necklace he'd taken from her the night before.

Twenty-five years.

Gene looked at the cigarettes in his other hand. He crushed the pack and tossed it onto the coffee table. "I'll have a better chance without you."

**END**


End file.
